


Collide

by whataloadofolddosh



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: All of the romance, Also a lot of sass, Angst, Bull being a flirt, Cole being adorable, Cullen Rutherford would be the most suppportive boyfriend fight me on this, Cullen and OC Romance, Cullen having no idea what's going on, Dorian and the Inquistor, Dorian romance, F/M, Healing, Helping, How can you not love them together, If I can control myself, Illness, Like that is anything new, Mainly from Dorian, Minor Dorian/OC, Multi, OK definitely smut, Romance, Seizure type disorder, but slow burn, hopefully, k - Freeform, maybe smut, probably smut, supporting each other, the cuteness is too much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-09-25 22:43:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9849785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whataloadofolddosh/pseuds/whataloadofolddosh
Summary: Aurelia Trevelyan has lived her entire life locked in her family's estate by a father who's never around and a mother who doesn't want her. Confined and restricted by an affliction she never wanted and can't control, she's been waiting for a chance to escape.Her only friend is her older brother Oliver, but when he has to go off and become the Herald of Andraste, she takes her life into her own hands.Reuniting with her brother, and helping him save Thedas was part of the plan. Having to deal with an annoyingly distracting ex-Templar wasn't.This is the tale of the unknown Trevelyan child.





	1. The Entrance

**Author's Note:**

> I've been stuck in a hole of Dragon Age for the past six months and only now have I been able to surface long enough to get my thoughts on paper. Please enjoy this view into my little fangirl's heart, reviews and everything are so appreciated but to be honest I'd be perfectly happy knowing I'm not the only one that cries over Cullen Rutherford at night.
> 
> If you want to see more of me being a massive fangirl over literally everything to do with Dragon Age then please check out my Tumblr at preparefortrevelyans. Hit me up, Let's be DA trash together.

Cullen was exhausted. It was a deep, aching tiredness that had settled behind his eyes and in his bones. The war table swam in and out of focus and he blinked, cracking his shoulders and straightening up. He wasn’t the only one having trouble concentrating, Josephine was hiding delicate yawns behind her hand between every other sentence, and the Inquisitor was staring out of the window with a vacant stare. Only Leliana looked as composed and alert as ever, but she was so talented at hiding her state of being that she could have been fast asleep for all he knew. 

Please, please Maker let this be over soon. The exhaustion was easier to ignore when he was at his desk, with the constant stream of soldiers coming and going, or taking part in training exercises where he could focus on was the ache in his muscles. He was no good at standing here and listening to Josephine wax poetic about which Orlesian noble has shown allegiance to which Orlesian noble, and how that affected them. 

They were all tired for the same reason, of course. It had been a little over a month since they had found Skyhold, and all of them had been labouring non-stop to make it a secure base. Today was the first day he had woken up before soldiers had started showing up with work at his office, and considering how little sleep he usually got, that was really saying something. The Inquisitor had returned from a two week expedition to Crestwood that morning, Josephine dealt with obnoxious nobles on a regular basis which was enough to grind anyone’s teeth, and Maker only knows what Leliana did in the hours she spent up in the rookery.

“And finally…” Josephine hid another yawn as Cullen felt the first stirrings of hope. He glanced at the Inquisitor, who looked like he was trying to make time speed up using the power of his mind. He was most likely desperate to go up to the library and be reunited with his Tevinter lover. He doubted Dorian was any less eager; as he had walked through the rotunda to get from the rampart to the main hall on the way to meeting he had seen the mage appear briefly over the railings from the floor above at the sound of footsteps, then retreat just as quickly when he realised who it was.

It was endearing really, the way the two men acted around each other, it was so conflicting with the way they portrayed themselves. Dorian was a show off, who hid behind a wall of well-groomed sarcasm and confidence. He flirted outrageously with anything that moved and his favourite pastime until fairly recently had been seeing how uncomfortable he could make Cullen before the Commander left his presence. The Inquisitor, though less inclined to make a scene every time he entered a room, had even more of an intense presence.

Oliver Trevelyan was an imposing figure of a man. At six and a half foot he was a nose taller than Cullen, and head and shoulders over everyone else in their group of acquaintances, apart from the Iron Bull and Madame De Fer. A born warrior, he was broad and powerful, yet measured in his attitude. Cullen didn’t know how he acted around his friends, but with his advisors and when he was working, he was calm and measured, never taking rash and extreme action unless the situation called for it. He was skilled at hiding his emotions from strangers, and everything about the way he was spoke of someone that had grown up in a noble household. Despite this, Cullen didn’t dislike the man, far from it. He had a great deal of respect for anyone that dealt with hardship with strength and maturity, let alone someone revered by many as the Herald of Andraste.

Separately, they demanded attention, whether purposefully or not. But when they were together, a deep calm settled over the two of them. When news had first spread that the Inquisitor had begun a romantic relationship with one of his companions, Cullen had had to endure Leliana and Josephine fawning over the two of them while they were waiting for the Inquisitor one meeting. According to Leliana, most of the time they were together they would bury themselves in the mage’s nook of the library, sitting and reading quietly together. When not doing that, they walked and talked and laughed and shot gooey looks at each other across the room. Leliana had been amused at the concept of two men who made a living out of killing another people being so mushy, and Josephine had found it all incredibly romantic. Cullen had rubbed his head to counteract a growing lyrium headache and prayed the Inquisitor would arrive soon.

Josephine finally finished speaking, and the Inquisitor let out a sigh, bringing a hand up to rub one eye. “Are we done here?” Cullen said, already thinking about the mountain of reports likely waiting in his office.

“I believe so.” The Antivan replied, looking out of the window slightly wistfully. “If we reconvene here again the day after tomorrow, we can…”  
The door to the War Room slammed open, and for a moment Cullen thought Skyhold was falling down around them. Wood bounced off stone as a figure stormed into the room and headed straight for the Inquisitor. His hand went to his sword on instinct, and next to him Josephine gasped as Trevelyan span around to face the newcomer. Two soldiers appeared seconds after and made a grab for the intruder, both babbling frantically.

“Apologies Inquisitor…”

“We couldn’t stop them…”

“Told them you were indisposed…”

“Inquisitor?”

Leliana’s eyes were on Trevelyan. The giant warrior, who had faced demons and rifts and Maker knows what else, had blanched and was white faced, staring at the stranger. His voice, when he spoke, sounded shaken.

“What in Andraste’s name are you doing here?”  
-  
Dorian was in trouble. He knew it was trouble because it was so sweet, like the honeyed cakes he used to sneak out of the kitchen when he was still a young boy. It was trouble because it had crept into his mind and was always there, anytime he let his concentration slip, hanging at the edges of his consciousness. Thoughts of him.

Oliver.

Amatus.

Dorian hadn’t dared to speak that word aloud yet, but it was there on the tip of his tongue whenever they spoke, so close to falling out.

He sighed. Even now, when he was supposed to be reading a fascinating text on the ancient houses of Tevinter, was his mind drifting back to Oliver. 

He was so attractive Dorian could ache from it. Tall enough for him to rest his head in the crook of his neck, with a pair of the most intense blue eyes the Tevinter mage had ever seen. They shone pale in the sunlight and glimmered when he laughed, but Dorian loved the deep cerulean colour they went in candlelight, when they lay together, sweaty and deliriously happy in the afterglow. That colour was for him alone.

Where he was well groomed, Oliver was wild. His hair was a dark mess of curls that went to the nape of his neck and hung over his eyes. His features were strong and defined, but when he smiled he looked like the most mischievous little shit Dorian had ever encountered. 

He was also shockingly poor at navigating social situations, despite his upbringing, with an interest in ancient wars and battle techniques that bordered on obsessive and Maker it was easy to make him blush.

Yes, Dorian was definitely in trouble. 

He’d been on the edge of his seat for the past two days. Not literally of course, he was far too talented to show any signs of restlessness in front of the masses, even if they were mainly Grand Enchanter Fiona and Leliana’s dozens of crows. Waiting to hear that he’d returned from Crestwood. He was only meant to go there to meet this Hawke, but something had gone wrong – of course it had, it shouldn’t even be a surprise at this point – and it had been weeks since they’d seen each other.

When Oliver had appeared at the top of the stairs Dorian thought his heart was going to leap out of his body. A sarky greeting had been on the tip of his tongue, something about the smell of the Crestwood bog on his lover, he couldn’t remember, but it would have been funny. Instead he’d been pulled into a sloppy, open mouth kiss that immediately shot bolts of desire through him one like of Vivienne’s electric shocks, and had him tugging on Oliver’s hair and grabbing at him in a sudden and frantic desire. Two weeks without the feel of this man on top of him had him half hard and wanting from one kiss. He knew the library was hardly the most private of places but he was still ready to shove his amatus up against the bookshelf and rub himself on him in a really very inappropriate way, when Oliver broke apart from him with a gasp.

“Well…” He managed to say, trying to come back to a more normal state of being.

“I missed you.” Oliver rasped, sounding and looking positively sinful. “I’ve a war meeting I can’t avoid right now but…wait for me.”

Maker strike him down, Dorian would have given anything to have a suave comment at the ready, but all he could do was grin at the man in front of him in a disgustingly soppy way and nod.

And that had been…more than three hours ago. He sighed and tapped his foot against the stone floor. He could be patient when the situation allowed it, but to turn up and make him as desperate for sex as a sailor coming into port, then just leave him high and try was just the height of rudeness. 

Then, an idea hit him and with a smirk he rose from his chair. If Oliver was going to inspire a reaction like that in him then the very least he could do was reciprocate in kind.  
When the Inquisitor finally dragged his luscious behind out of the War Room and back to his quarters, Dorian would be there. And this time, a simple kiss was not going to satisfy.  
The main hall was abuzz with noise when he entered from the rotunda. The many social climbing Orlesians that had positioned themselves around the spacious room had separated into groups, and had their heads bowed, whispering excitedly to each other. This in itself was nothing new, but there was something different going on. Perhaps something had happened in Crestwood?

Dorian glanced to his left. The dwarf was sitting at his usual perch, but instead of staring into the fire, or scribbling on a sheaf of parchment, he had his hands folded under his chin and was watching the goings with intense interest. 

“Any idea what’s going on?” He asked by way of greeting, and Varric leant back and gave him a grin of amusement. 

“Someone apparently came charging through here like Corypheous and all his Red Templars were after them. I wasn’t here to see it unfortunately, but one of the guards said she just charged into the War Room like she owned the damn place.”

“She? Has a poor servant finally been driven mad with lust for our beautiful ambassador and tried to storm in there to reveal her feelings?”

Varric gave a deep chortle. “I don’t know but whoever she is, she and our beloved leader disappeared into his quarters about forty five minutes ago, and the entire castle’s trying to find out what’s going on.”

Curiosity officially piqued, Dorian raised an eyebrow. “His quarters you say? Interesting.”

“Whatever you’re about to interrupt Sparkler, I’d be careful. I’ve never seen Trevelyan look so furious, and that’s saying something given some of the shit we’ve experienced.”

“Concern noted. Ignored, but noted.” Dorian replied, already moving through the nobles and towards the door. As much as he tried to be the voice of reason, the dwarf wanted to know what was going on as much as the rest of them, and would probably be the first to ply him with alcohol later in an attempt to find out.

Dorian had always liked that there was a corridor between the hall and Oliver’s quarters. The noise of the hall was instantly drowned out the second the heavy door shut behind you, and the short corridor let him relax fully before going to his amatus. He knew Oliver liked the space, as it gave him time to unwind and let go of his ‘Big Bad Inquisitor’ front, and walking it together in an evening had become a little routine of theirs.

They were one of those couples that had ‘evening habits’. The realisation was positively nauseating. 

Oliver’s door was just as soundproof as the one leading to the main hall, which Dorian was more than thankful for, for obvious reasons. It was a good thing on this occasion too, for when he inched open the bedroom door and slid inside, he was hit with a barrage of shouting voices.

“How could you be so stupid, do you have any idea how reckless this is?”

That was Oliver, and sounding more furious than Dorian had ever heard. He’d seen him angry of course, the first time they’d met he’d turned on Alexius with a cold fury. And that was the point. Oliver’s anger was cold, low voiced and dangerous. He didn’t shout with reckless abandonment, uncaring if he was heard or not. He didn’t let his real emotions colour his tone, not when dealing with people he didn’t know very, very well.

“Don’t you dare, you hypocritical son of a- “

Varric was right, it was a woman. And clearly, someone familiar to him. He didn’t know anyone who would dare to call the leader of the Inquisition and the Herald of Andraste names like that. Well, he did but he doubted any of them would willingly come strolling into Skyhold.

“This is just so typical of you, you go off somewhere with no regard for your own safety and leave the rest of us in the dark, panicking.”

“Oh I’m SORRY, are you offended that I didn’t tell you I was coming? IMAGINE what that must feel like? Oh wait, I know exactly how that feels because you neglected to tell me you actually survived the avalanche on Haven and were very much alive and well!”

Slowly, trying not to be seen, Dorian ascended the stairs. Oliver was stood facing him, colour high in his cheeks, feet apart and arms folded. He cut an imposing figure, but the woman with her back to him appeared to be less than intimidated. She barely came up to his biceps, but stood with her feet planted on the floor, hands on wide hips that was grazed by long, red hair that twisted and curled as badly as Oliver’s.

The person in question saw Dorian and faltered, arms falling to his sides. “Dorian! I’m so sorry, I forgot to-“

“No matter,” he replied casually, leaning his hip against the stone bannister and adopting a casual demeanour. “Who’s your friend, Inquisitor?”

The woman turned, and Dorian’s eyebrows raised of their own accord. Oliver sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“Dorian, meet my sister, Aurelia. Aurelia, this is Dorian.”  
-  
“I thought you were the youngest Trevelyan in that branch of the family?” Dorian directed the question at Oliver, who had taken his position of leaning against the stairwell. He was leaning on the desk, and Aurelia Trevelyan was sitting cross legged on the bed. She scoffed at the question.

“The youngest it was worth releasing to the public.”

Looking at her, it was impossible to mistake the two of them as anything other than siblings. Her hair may be red and not black, but it fell across her face in exactly the same way, over eyes that (despite being a dark brown and not pale blue) were just as intense and focused. Her face was rounder, softer than her brothers, but her skin was the same pale shade and she was just as broad, curvy rather than muscly with a decidedly more feminine figure than her brother. 

Dorian arched an eyebrow at her. “I’d recommend explaining that a bit more.”

She arched an eyebrow right back. “I’d recommend you keep your large Tevinter nose out of something that doesn’t concern you.”

“Auri!” Oliver snapped. “What did we say about speaking politely to people we don’t know?”

“You lost the right to patronise me like that when you forgot to tell me you were actually still alive!” She spat in return.

Dorian was having a whale of a time. His amatus’ younger sister looked to be just as entertaining as her brother. 

Oliver sighed again, clearly exasperated. “I’m sorry Auri, I really am. But things just got on top of me, and I never had a minute to myself and I just…”

“I had to find out from Mother, Olly.” Her voice had taken on a pleading tone. “And she’d heard it from one of her ‘contacts’ in Val Royeux. Do you know how humiliating that was, to find out that you were alive from our mother?”

He flushed, and looked down. “I know Auri, I know.”

“I know you’re busy Olly, but one letter is all it would have taken! A sentence, even a word, just to let me know I hadn’t lost another brother to the fucking hole in the sky.”

Oliver took a step forward, like he wanted to give her a hug, but she let out a breath and straightened her back.

“So now you know why I had to get out. I’d been looking for the perfect time to go ever since you went to the Conclave, and Mother took herself off to Val Royeux to celebrate when news came that you’d survived the siege and I took my chance.”

“But what about…”

“You know as well as I do that I’m in as much danger here as at home. I wanted to join the Inquisition and help, I wanted to be back with you, and I wanted to be out of our fucking home. Don’t send me back Olly, you can’t.”

Her eyes were big, focused on him. She was scared, Dorian realised. She was genuinely afraid that he would send her home.

Olly glanced at him, and he motioned his head towards the door. “Should I go?”

“No.” He said quickly, at the same time that Aurelia said “Yes.”

“This is safe, Aurelia.” He told her, walking over to the bed and sitting next to her. “You can trust Dorian with anything you trust me with.”

Damn that soppy, soppy man. He smiled softly at him without really meaning to. 

Aurelia’s eyes darted between them, and her mouth opened slightly. “Are you two...?”

Dorian gave a dramatic sigh. “Yes, quite. The Tevinter pariah and the Inquisitor. It’s quite a tragic love story.”

Slowly, a smile spread across her face. It was identical to her brother’s, large and genuine. It made her quite pretty, really. “I’m glad to see your taste has improved at least, Olly. He’s much more handsome than some of the louts you’d drag in through your bedroom window at three in the morning.”

“My dear if you keep complimenting me like that I’m afraid we’re going to become very good friends.” Dorian shot her one of his best cocky smiles and she huffed a laugh.

“Treat my favourite brother right and we’ll be peachy keen.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go back home?” Oliver said, resting his hand on her arm. The look she gave him was scathing, to say the least.

“Are you joking? I’d rather be alone in the Western Approach at night than go back there. No, I’m staying.”

Oliver murmured something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “Maker save us all.” Then threw his hands up in defeat. “Alright, alright, alright. You can stay. We’ll set you up in this room for the time being, while we find somewhere close enough where I can keep an eye on you. Go find Josephine, she’ll be at the desk you passed like a stampeding Druffalo on your way to the War Room. She’ll give you a tour, show you where everything is. Then come straight back here to me, yes? We have to figure out how to break it to Mother.”

Her smile could have lit up a room. “Thank you Olly.” Sliding off the bed, she made it halfway to the stairs before she turned and pulled her brother into a fierce, one armed hug, and whispered something in his ear. Before opening the bedroom door she called into the room “You won’t regret this!” before slamming it behind her.  
Dorian looked at his lover, who let out a groan and fell back amongst his pillows. Smirking, he settled himself on the bed next to him and slung one leg over his. “That was certainly…unexpected.”

The laugh was still half a groan, and Oliver turned, burying his face into Dorian’s neck. The mage pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead. “Do you want to tell me what all of that meant?”

“Ugh.” He replied childishly, and Dorian snorted. “It’s tricky. I love my sister more than anything, she’s my best friend, and her life at home was never…easy. But she could be watched at home, and taken care of. Out here, with me and the way my life is currently…it’s dangerous for any of us, let alone her.”

“Why does she need to be taken care of? Verbally she seems more than a match for any of us.”

“Verbally the only danger is that she’ll get herself attacked for making too many ‘sarcastic observations’, as she calls them.” He retorted, then sighed again.

“Aurelia is sick. The kind of sickness with no cure, no cause, no rhyme or reason. She has these fits. They can happen at any time, in any place, for any reason. Our mother has always been something of a social climber, and having a child that had spontaneous seizures never fit into her image of a daughter. So, she was hidden, and the world was told that the child had been still born. My sister has spent her entire life locked up in our estate, for fear of how her affliction would reflect on the family.”

Dorian was quiet. What do you say to something like that? He was a social outcast in his family, but it was by his choice, and he at least had enjoyed a pleasant childhood, before the lustre faded and he saw the reality of his painted life. For her to have never even have had that, to have always been locked away like something shameful, to be hidden. His heart went out to her.

“Well then,” He said finally, shifting to give Oliver a proper hug. “This should be an experience for us all.”


	2. The Discussion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you guys, thank you so much for all the responses on my last chapter, it was such a sick surprise! Remember, if you ever wanna talk DA I'm literally always up for it, you can find me at preparefortrevelyans.tumblr.com, let's totally hang.
> 
> Fair warning; there is description of epilepsy fits in this chapter, if that's not something you want to read just skip over it. 
> 
> There is also smut. Unplanned smut.
> 
>  
> 
> ( ° ʖ ° )

Aurelia hadn’t realised how big Skyhold actually was. Obviously the castle was huge, but it wasn’t until the Antivan, Josephine something, was about halfway through showing her around that it really began to sink in. She had lived on the same estate all her life, she knew where everything was and about seven different ways to get there. She also had a talent for finding and using secret passages, and was itching to get the chance to explore this massive place now owned by her brother. 

Oliver.

The only one of her four brothers to survive the Conclave, apart from Ellis, who as a Templar in training had been nowhere near the site of the explosion (although for all she cared he could have been at the centre of it). She mourned for Lukas and Cian, twin brothers three years older than Oliver who had been scholars for the Chantry, and who had both died at the explosion. They had been too young to die, too good hearted. She had never experienced death on such a personal level before, only ever reading it in books and she hated the way it crashed on her when she wasn’t expecting it, then retreated like the tide leaving her bruised and aching. It wasn’t like she’d been able to find any comfort from her mother, and until the news had come that Olly was actually the damn Herald of Andraste, she had grieved for her family alone.

For him to be in charge of all of this was unbelievable. The brother she knew was more like a mother hen than anything else, clucking over all of them throughout their childhood. Where Ellis had been the show off, Lukas and Cian had been the quiet ones and she had been on the outside looking in, he had been the nag who always made sure everyone had what they needed. And now he led an army of the faithful like nothing this world had seen for an age. 

She sighed, and sat down. After the tour, she’d gone back to Oliver who after a lot of grumping, had given her a room off the garden. The only reason he’d let her sleep so far away from him was because Dorian had pointed out that her room was close to his, and he was able to keep an eye on her.

It was an odd combination of feelings, resenting the fact that people felt the need to watch you at all times, and understanding why they had to. But such thoughts were gloomy and she had spent most of her life thinking on them, so the exercise was essentially pointless. She was in a new place, finally finally out her home and away from her mother. If anything, she should be celebrating! Was there any alcohol in her room?

Her eyes travelled across her new bedroom. It was fairly small, tiny and barren in decoration compared to her quarters at home but it could have been a pig pen and she’d have been satisfied. Simple, but all the furniture was clearly good quality and built to last. She was half sure it had been Oliver demanding that everyone who roomed at Skyhold had comfortable lodgings. What was it he used to say? A good night’s sleep can do wonders for one’s soul. She snorted. What a fucking drip her brother was. It was a wonder he ever managed to actually lead anyone anywhere, she wouldn’t be surprised to find out he went around all his soldiers individually, tucking them into bed and berating them when they didn’t eat their vegetables. 

Aurelia walked to her bedroom door and leant her hip against the frame, looking at the garden opposite her. A large stone statue of Andraste had been built in the very centre and seemed to be looking at her with a disapproving eye. A symbol that others gathered around and worshipped. Just like her brother. Fate is an odd thing. But enough of that, she was free to finally start living, and she didn’t intend to waste a minute of it.

“Excuse me?” She reached out and grabbed the arm of a passing soldier. “Is there a tavern somewhere in this sprawling mass of a castle?”  
-  
“No. Absolutely not.”

“See, I understand why at first you may think that, but if you’ll just…”

“This is NOT a matter for debate Aurelia, it’s just not happening.”

“Oliver, just let me-“

“NO.”

“Andraste’s ASS Oliver, stop interrupting me!”

“Dear me. It seems every time I find you two in here you’re fighting.”

Oliver spun around. Dorian was stood at the top of the stairs into his quarters, watching the scene in front of him with what looked like great enjoyment. Oliver was only surprised that he hadn’t bought a goblet of wine to drink while watching them fight. He let out a huff of breath through his nose, quite aware that he likely sounded like a raging bull but not caring.

His sister made a frustrated noise and strode past him. “This isn’t over.” She said over her shoulder, gracefully avoiding Dorian’s good natured attempt to trip her up and swiping his shoulder as she passed. 

“What are you overreacting about now?” Dorian said after the door closed, and Oliver’s mouth dropped open. 

“You..me?!”

“Yes you, you brute. Have you forgotten your reaction when she came back from going for a walk outside Skyhold?”

“She went alone!” Oliver was in shock. His boyfriend was siding with his sister, this was unbelievable. “She was gone for hours, what if she’d had a fit?”

“But she didn’t. What has she asked to do now that’s got you incoherent with indignity?” Dorian chuckled. “Have the Iron Bull and Varric finally convinced her to join them on their tour of all the alehouses in Val Royeaux? I understand their list numbers more than twenty locations at last count.”

Oliver sighed and turned towards his desk, raising a hand to run through his hair. “No, this is nothing like…wait, what?” He glared at Dorian across the room. “What have they got planned now? She’s not going on some alehouse tour with those two!”

“Sweet Maker, listen to yourself!” Dorian cried, apparently having reached the limit of his tolerance and striding across the room to grab him by the shoulders. “You’re not her mother, I don’t know if it’s escaped your notice but your sister is almost thirty. She’s a human being, not some fragile doll you need to keep in a glass case to protect. You’d been gone from the family estate for months before she came here and from what she told me she dealt with all those fits with no one hovering at her shoulder.”

A lump sprang up in Oliver’s throat. He coughed, tried to it and stared at a fixed point over Dorian’s head. “But you saw what it’s like, what happened last time. How could I not worry, always?”

She’d only had one fit in the three weeks since she’d arrived at Skyhold. They’d all been somewhere within the main training area of Skyhold, just outside the tavern. He’d convinced Cullen that a bite of fresh air once in a while was probably good for the system, and they were pacing along the battlements while below, Bull and Krem had been training in the ring. Perhaps training was the wrong word, Krem was very good naturedly taking a beating from the Quinari, who was clearly showing off for Aurelia’s benefit. The fact that the massive horned mercenary leader who was quite possibly the crassest person Oliver had ever known wanted to fuck his sister made his teeth grind together, but it never went beyond flirty teasing and the occasional glance at her when she walked away, so the Inquisitor kept silent. Aurelia and Dorian had been watching from the sidelines, shouting various insults in an attempt to distract the two who were sparring. Sera was hanging out of her window in the tavern, joining in with a much filthier dialogue, while Varric sat with his feet up in the shade, clearly exhausted by spending a day scribbling down every single thing Oliver had said. They’d only returned from Crestwood the day before, after closing the rift in the lake and sending out a search party for the mayor, and the down time was appreciated by all of them. The overall scene was so calm and idyllic he was almost disgusted. 

“How has Lady Trevelyan adjusted to life at Skyhold?” Cullen had asked him as they leaned over the stone wall. He had laughed, and chastised his Commander.  
“Call her Aurelia, Cullen, or she’ll make your life hell. Lady Trevelyan is our mother.”

Cullen had cracked one of his rare smiles and looked down at Bull, who had Krem pinned to the ground with one foot and seemed to be testing how much weight he could put on the other man’s armour. “She seems to have adjusted well here. Leliana tells me she spends most of her time either with you and Dorian, Varric or Iron Bull.”

“Only because they spend most of their time in the tavern, so she can use the friendship as a façade to cover her alcoholism.” Oliver chuckled, resting his elbows on the worn stone. “I think she enjoys being around a lot of people, in a place where life is so obvious, and there’s nowhere that’s clearer than with the Chargers in the Herald’s Rest.”

“Very true.” He raised an eyebrow. “I also heard she’s struck up a surprising friendship with Solas.”

Oliver snorted. “That was definitely a surprise. I like Solas well enough, but I didn’t expect my sister to be the kind of person he’d want to be around at all. Apparently they share a love of art. He loves teaching and one of the only times Aurelia isn’t shooting her mouth off is when she’s learning, so they pass time quite harmoniously together.”

Cullen straighted his back and folded his arms, sun glinting off his armour. There was no question of the man’s attractiveness, Oliver didn’t doubt that anyone in the castle with a passing interest in men didn’t wonder at least once what the man underneath was like once the armour was stripped off. But he was pleasant company, and they had a lot of shared interests, Oliver hoped they were friends. “I should tell you Trevelyan, the letters Josephine’s been receiving are growing at an almost alarming rate…”

“Have them sent to my quarters.” He’d sighed. “I’ll deal with them. When do Hawke and Stroud say they'll leave for the Approach?”

“All going well, they should go within the month.” Cullen had replied and the two of them had turned away from the scene below, heading back to his office. “From there, the Council can convene and decide-“

A sharp whistle made Oliver’s head snap around. Sera was leaning, if possible, even further out of her window and waving frantically at them. She had yelled something at them but Oliver had known what it was, because there was nothing else that could turn the mood so quickly. His heart dropped like a stone. Leaning over the wall he could see his sister lying on her back on the grass, convulsing involuntarily. Arms twitching, legs kicking, back arching and Oliver had seen this enough times to know her eyes were rolling in her head. Dorian had instinctively backed away and seemed to be at a loss at what to do. Oliver was already thundering down the stone steps, heart pounding and Cullen on his heels before anyone else had moved, but as he sprinted across the grass towards her Bull leapt over the wooden fence of the ring and bent down, clearly intending to pick her up.

“Don’t touch her!” He bellowed, barely noticing how he shoved past Dorian and fell to his knees beside his sister. “We can’t put any pressure on her, the force could break her bones.”

He’d seen this happen multiple times, had nightmares about it for years, but the reality of seeing one of the people he cared about most in this Maker forsaken world twitching helplessly was terrible. Deep breaths Oliver, deep breaths.

She needed to be moved, she couldn’t stay on her back while having convulsions. Gently, with years of practice, Oliver had managed to move his still convulsing sister onto her left side, so she faced himself, Dorian and Cullen. No one spoke, and the seconds ticked by painfully slowly, an intense quiet settling over the little corner of Skyhold. Vaguely, he was aware that a crowd had gathered around them, but couldn’t bring himself to look away from his sister’s body. The fit seemed to be nearing an end, the movements slowing and becoming less frequent. Cullen was giving instructions to someone, telling them to get everyone away and give them some privacy. Olivier was gripped with the sudden urge to laugh; all the hard work their mother had done ensuring no one would ever find out about Aurelia had just gone out of the window, he’d almost feel sorry for her if he didn’t hate her so much. Finally, as he marked four minutes of convulsions from start to finish, she stopped and went limp. It was over. Bowing his head, he sent a silent prayer of thanks to Andraste and the Maker, although he didn’t know what kind of god would inflict this way of living on someone in the first place. 

Deep breaths, Oliver, deep breaths. He looked up at the circle standing over him. Dorian and Bull were watching him, waiting to be told what to do. Sera looked like she was about to burst into tears, Varric’s fists were clenched tight and Cullen’s eyes were following Aurelia’s movement with the intensity of a trained soldier marking every movement. “She can’t feel anything when it happens, she’s passed out before it starts.” He told them, grateful when his voice remained steady. The information was important for them all to know, and repeating the facts he'd memorised as a child helped calm him. “When she’s moving, she can’t be touched if its avoidable, because usually it’s too much of a risk. The pressure on her could break her bones.”

“She needs to rest. I suggest you all find something else to occupy your time with for now, the last thing she’ll want to see when she comes to is a circle of concerned faces. She’ll be fine. She’ll be fine.”

“Come on, Buttercup.” Varric rested his hand in the crook of Sera’s elbow and steered her back to the tavern. “I’ll buy you a drink. I know I need one.”

Bull blinked, then he and Krem followed them, silently. When they had left and only Dorian and Cullen remained, Oliver moved her head into his lap. She was pale, and a little hot. He closed his eyes and felt the memories wash over him. Aurelia as a baby, twitching in her cradle and their mother’s face whitening as she realised her baby daughter was imperfect. Aurelia at eight years old, when she accidentally gave Lukas a black eye because he tried to move her off the wood floor, when all Oliver could do was watch and cry at how horrible it was. Aurelia at thirteen, the first time he hadn’t been there, instead playing outside with his brothers, and the way the guilt had knawed at his insides for weeks afterwards. All the other times it had happened and he’d had to sit there and watch, aching to help but knowing that getting involved would do more harm than good. The fight he’d had with his mother at leaving Aurelia to assist family at the Conclave and the way he’d never really been able to shake the feeling that he’d chosen familial duties over her. And afterwards, when he’d been so busy that he’d forgotten to tell her he was still alive and she’d had to mourn for him completely alone. 

There was a hand at his shoulder and he looked up. Dorian. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and his lover bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. “I need to move her.” He heard himself whisper. “My room…she can rest in my bed. No wait, it’s too public, her bedroom…Dorian…”

He felt weak, hollowed out. It was pathetic, he wasn’t the one who’d just had a fit. He was her big brother and he had always tried his best to be there. But it was so easy to forget what it looked like, what it felt like and how it played behind closed eyelids for hours, days afterwards. He was a weak man for being unable to stay strong for her sake.  
Legs were shaking when he managed to get to his feet, and he felt Dorian’s arm snake around his waist. She was there, she needed him. He shook his head, tried to step away. “I have to…”

“Let the Commander take her.” Dorian said quietly to him. “You’ll be right there at her side.”

“No, no, I have to…”

“No you don’t.” The other man cut across him. “You’re not abandoning her by letting someone else carry her.”

“Inquisitor?” 

He met Cullen’s eyes. The man was every inch a soldier in that moment, ready to act on command. Aurelia was still on the grass, slowly coming too. He nodded, once. Dorian kissed his cheek and Oliver turned into it, allowing himself the comfort of a fierce embrace for one brief moment while Cullen, with a grace Oliver hadn’t expected from someone wearing that much metal, bent down and scooped her into his arms, turning in one swift moment towards one of the doors that went into the depths of the castle before leading to the garden. Silently, Oliver thanked the Commander for his discretion in ensuring Aurelia would be seen by as little people as possible. He couldn’t give a nug’s ass about how it would make the Inquisition look, but she would want as much privacy as possible, and she more than deserved it.

-

“I know you.” Dorian said, bringing Oliver out of the memory and making him look up. “And I know how your mind works. Letting someone else carry her was brave of you, even if it was because you were likely to drop her you were shaking so much rather than an actual willingness, but still. Small steps.”

He couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up in his throat. “I worry too much I know. And it’s easy to joke about in the aftermath, but when it’s happening…” he sighed. “When I was younger I remember convincing myself that the more often it happened the easier it would get. That I would be able to put aside the panic and focus on her. But every time it happens I still freeze in terror.”

He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his eyes. Evening was setting in, and the sunset lit up his room in shades of orange and yellow, illuminating the metal on his bedframe and Dorian’s armour. “Well, there’s no point thinking on things like that now.”

“You know,” Dorian said, a wicked grin suffusing his handsome features. It always made something in Oliver’s lower gut clench when he did that, and he let his eyes trace the curve of the other man’s back. “I heard your little sister say something to our dear Commander while he was carrying her to her room. And try as I might I can’t get it out of either of them, they’ve both feigned ignorance. Perhaps the two of them will begin an illicit affair and rain scandal down upon us all.”

“Mm.” Oliver was not listening. Dorian was bathed in the light of the sunset and he looked good enough to eat. The Tevinter raised an eyebrow at him, and reaching out one hand, Oliver grabbed him around the waist and pulled his love flush against him.

“Oh so that’s how it is.” Dorian tried to laugh but it turned into a slightly strangled noise when Oliver began placing open mouthed kisses on his neck, running his hands down the perfectly toned body to grope his ass. “You…ah…you know a man like me likes to…oh, ohh…be treated well from time to…time. Fine dining…uh…a nice glass of wine by candlelight…fuck, Oliver!”

For Oliver had dropped to his knees and put his mouth around Dorian’s fully clothed and half hard cock. Smirking, he ran his tongue over the fabric, applying pressure in all the right places. The mage was breathing hard through his nose, pupil’s fully dilated as he watched him.

“You like this.” Oliver said, voice rough with desire. “Me on my knees in front of you. Why, you could do anything you want with me.”

As an answer, Dorian had wound his hand into Oliver’s hair, and tugged on it, sending pin pricks of sensation down his body and forcing a groan, half pain, half pleasure out of his mouth. The air turned hot and heavy as with practiced hands, Oliver pulled Dorian’s cock out of his clothing and taken it fully into his mouth. 

Oliver was an analytical man, as much in the bedroom as anywhere else. He had paid attention to what Dorian liked and didn’t like and had worked out what just what to do that would drive the man crazy. As he went to work, swirling his tongue and bobbing his head in a way he was fairly sure would give his mother a heart attack if she ever found out, Dorian’s hands were gripping his shoulders as under his breath he let out a string of words in Tevene. He could have stayed on the floor like that quite happily for a while longer, but it was only a few minutes before Dorian was pulling him to his feet and shoving him back towards the bed. They collapsed in a pile of limbs that were wearing too much clothing for Oliver’s liking and in between hot, panting kisses they somehow managed to strip.

He could never get over the feeling of Dorian’s bare skin sliding against his own. Hands were roaming over hot skin slick with sweat. Their moans were mingling together in the quiet of the bedroom, the sound of his lover being pleasured making his stomach tingle. The two of them were grinding against each other, bathed in the evening light, and Oliver was losing himself in pleasure. He had his arms pinned above his head and Dorian’s mouth open against his as their breath mingled in the inches of space between them. Their cocks were rubbing together, the only lubrication the pre-cum weeping out of both members, held in place by one of Dorian’s hands. All sensation had gone south, he was losing control and his hips began to twitch more frantically than the heated pace they had set.

“Ah…ah fuck…Dorian…Dorian I…ah Maker…” he couldn’t speak full sentences, he was taut against the bed, full of delicious sensation, body moving desperately against his lover’s as each movement sent the telltale tingles through his cock.

“I’m going…I’m going to…” 

Dorian had his head buried in the crook of his neck, each movement wrenching a noise from his mouth. He sounded like a desperate wanton whore, and the thought brought Oliver even closer to the edge, made him hike his legs even further up Dorian’s back. Their skin was slapping together and Oliver wrenched his hands free from Dorian’s grip and grabbed his behind, running his finger along the line of his ass in the way he knew Dorian loved. The movement made the Tevinter come, and he twitched one, twice, before spilling onto Oliver’s stomach with a guttural noise. The feeling of someone coming above him pushed Oliver over the edge and he followed Dorian seconds after, unconsciously raising his hips to grind his cock against Dorian’s lower stomach as the heat spread through him. 

They were silent as the evening air cooled their flushed skin, trying to catch their breath. Eventually Olivier found it in him to blink away the deep restfulness that had settled in his body, and rolled off the bed to grab a rag from his chest. 

“You know,” Dorian said, eyes closed and a content smile on his face, stretching like a cat in the sun while Oliver dragged the cloth across his stomach. “I never know whether to be offended or not when you instigate sex while I’m trying to tell you something.”

“I’m sure you’ll get over it.” Oliver replied, collapsing next to him and pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder. “No one else would put up with you anyway.”

-

“Anger tinged with reason, furious he won’t let you go yet knowing and understanding why at the same time. I can fight, I want to help, how can I live if he won’t let me? He wants to protect you.”

“I know Cole, I know.” Aurelia sighed and moved her neck, feeling the muscles pop and click. “But I can’t just sit around Skyhold all day.”

The young man was sat on the stone battlements facing the mountains, where the two of them had been watching the sun dip lower and lower in sky. He turned to look at her, watery blue eyes unfocused and yet focused at the same time, barely visible under the brim of his hat. “But you don’t sit all day. You talk with the Iron Bull or Varric. Solas teaches you things. Krem makes you laugh. And we go on walks. I like our walks. I’m glad I didn’t make you want to stay away.”

She smiled. “It’s a figure of speech Cole. But you’re right, I do a lot of things here. But I want to do more. And I’m glad I didn’t stay away too.”

When she had first met Cole he’d launched into one of his, what Varric called ‘observations’ and gave a second by second replay of what was going through her head whenever she had a fit. Understandably, Ollie hadn’t been pleased, and she’d fled. It had been a few days before he’d approached her again. But she liked the young man, whatever he was. He reminded her of a puppy that had spent all its life in an abusive home and was half scared and timid, half wanting to bring joy to everyone around it. She couldn’t really find it in her to be scared away by him, not really.

“Staring out of the window, wishing, wondering. So much out there, so much to see and learn. I didn’t come here to spend all my time in another room.”

“Exactly.” She replied, closing her eyes and letting the cold air wash over her. “I’m going to start coming with you the next time Oliver has to go out somewhere. He’ll try to stop it but I’ll fight him every step of the way if that’s what it takes. I’ve wasted too much of my life already Cole.”

“I’d like you to come with us.” Cole said, kicking his feet against the stone. “You, and me, and Dorian and the Herald. It would be fun and everyone would laugh. It would be like having friends.”

Aurelia laughed, and gave him and nudge with her shoulder. “We are friends, Cole! Good friends.”

“Hm.” The realisation seemed to make him contemplative, and they stood together in silence, watching the sky grow darker. It wasn’t until all the torches were lit in the cast that Cole spoke again. 

“Watching, wanting to help, what can I do. Hair like fire. She wore it up one day, plaits twisted around her head like the girls in the village used to. It curled by her ear, what if I touched it, wound it around my finger? Placed a kiss under her ear. Too wrong, don’t go there, stop it.”

She frowned at him. “Cole, what is it?” But the boy was on a rampage, seeming to not even notice her.

“Sitting in the garden, on the wall, breathing in life and fresh air. Talking, laughing, drinking. I could sit with her, to make her laugh, feel her smile. Reading under the shadow of a tree, lips mouthing the words as she reads, I could sit with her, talk to her, feel those lips. He thinks it’s a fleeting fancy, it’s easier to ignore and there would be so many problems otherwise, why would he lie to himself?”

“Cole?”

“Commander, Jervin has a report on the soldier's weapons.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

Aurelia’s head snapped to the side. Commander Cullen was approaching, surrounded as always by a retinue of soldiers, two this time compared to his usual five. She had seen him around Skyhold, working or with her brother, also probably working. He was…a sight to behold. Blonde hair tousled so it looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, looking for all the world exactly like what the leader of the armies of the faithful should look like. The only flaw she had ever been able to see on his face was a small scar on his top lip, but considering how it made him look she would be loathe to call it a flaw. She knew she’d had her head turned slightly and refused to either acknowledge it or act upon it. She was one of likely dozens, if not hundreds of people at Skyhold who thought he was attractive. Some of the stories Dorian had told her about their encounters had made her snort in a very unladylike way. Besides, she had never seen a man so dedicated to his work, or stern in appearance. It made it quite hard to imagine him lounging around in bed with her all day, or ever making her laugh in the same way Bull did. He was one of those men that was best admired from a distance, for fear of getting too swept up in his eyes, or his shoulders and having to deal with the inevitable rejection. 

She looked around, but Cole had disappeared, probably off to heal hurt somewhere. As the group passed her, the Commander shot her a respectful nod which she returned with a smile. No harm in enjoying the view at least. They were almost at the door leading to his office, when he turned back towards her. “I am pleased to see you are well, Lady Trevelyan.”

She was unable to stop her eyes rolling. “Aurelia, please Commander. And thank you. I hear you were a great help during the event, and for that you have my gratitude.”  
That was the correct response, the one her mother had drilled into her that she should say were she ever to have a fit in front of someone not a member of the family. How that was supposed to happen while she was locked in a room she had no idea but her mother clearly liked to be prepared. It was stiff, and formal and she hated it. 

“It was my pleasure.” He replied easily, then frowned. “Well, not a pleasure, but a duty I was happy to fulfil. But not a duty, it’s…”

Aurelia could feel a smile spreading across her face. “It is difficult to know how to describe it. Regardless, I was glad you were there, Dorian tells me my brother could barely stand and described himself as ‘unsuited for carrying an unconscious human being and still looking divine’ so if it wasn’t for you I would have likely woken up on the grass instead of my own bed.”

“Oh.” Was that a flush going up his cheeks? Sweet Maker, the Commander of the Inquisition clearly couldn’t handle any interaction not about battle tactics. How endearing. “It was no bother, I was pleased I could be of assistance.”

He smiled at her. It suited him. It really, really suited him. She was still slightly taken aback by that realisation when the door to his office closed and Cole reappeared at her side. 

“Thank you. Stay still, I will make sure no one sees you. I will keep you safe.”

“What?” Aurelia said, confusion making her voice sharper than intended. “Who said that?”

“You did.” Cole told her, eyes not quite seeing her. “To him. And he did. To you.”


	3. The Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, turns out my brain has decided to completely ignore the step by step plan I made and veer off and do it's own thing. Sick.
> 
> As always, you can catch me on Tumblr at preparefortrevalyans.tumblr.com
> 
> Send me Dragon Age memes and smutty fan art
> 
> I live for that shit.

Oliver arrived at his sister’s door early in the morning, when the cold light of the sun was just beginning to creep over the peaks of the mountains. The religious in the castle were already in the garden, kneeling in the damp grass for morning rites before starting their day. There was something to be admired in those that kept their devotion even though it demanded being awake before the sun had fully risen. On a day off like today Oliver usually wouldn’t been seen for hours yet, but today was a special occasion.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Dorian had asked him, lazily watching from the bed as he’d pulled some clothes on.

“She wanted to be trained.” He’d replied, smirking as he’d watched Dorian stretch like a cat in the sun and bury himself in the pillows. “This is what life is like when you’re being trained.”

“I believe she asked for some tips to, and I quote, ‘brush up her skills’.” The muffled voice from the bed had said.

Oliver had snorted. “She’s trying to get off lightly, Aurelia’s not had a day of training in her life. But, she wants to learn? She’ll learn the same way as any recruit.”

“You’re a sadistic brute.” Dorian replied. “You won’t let her come out travelling with us but you’ll drag her to the ring for what is essentially a beating up, in the name of training?”

“Bull’s been promising to train her for weeks, I’d rather it be done by me than someone who wants to fuck her brains out.” He’d grumbled as he walked out, Dorian’s laughter following as he shut the door behind him. Which had led him here.

Not bothering to knock, he banged the door open with his elbow and stepped inside. Perhaps he was making a little more noise than usual but making his sister’s life as miserable as hell was arguably one of his most important duties.

“Good morning!” He said, throwing the shuttered windows open. There wasn’t much of a view from her window, her bedroom was so low down in the castle’s layout that all that could be seen was mountainside. Still, anything was better than the view from her room at home.

There was a grunt from the bed. With the grey light of dawn slowly filtering in, he could just about make out the shape of Aurelia’s body under the blankets, a few strands of red hair visible on the pillow.

“Stand to attention recruit!” Oliver said, planting his feet in front of the bed. “Training starts in ten minutes and I want you bright and eager in the ring, by order of the Inquisitor.”

The blanket moved slightly, and a hand appeared, giving him a very rude gesture.

He tutted. “If you were a real recruit that would be grounds for dismissal, at the very least. Luckily you get special treatment.”

“Not really feeling that treatment right now.” She replied and Oliver sighed.

“Oh I’m so sorry, let me try harder.” Grasping the edges of blanket, he heaved. With a yelp that sounded like a wounded Mabari, Aurelia fell arse first onto the stone floor.

“Andraste’s ass, Olly! What the fuck do you want?!” She glared up at him from the floor. She looked like a mess, hair like a wildfire and eyes bloodshot and narrowed. She was still in her day clothes, shirt half undone and slipping off one freckled shoulder, trousers rumpled and one boot still on.

“Were you drinking with Bull and the Chargers again last night?” Oliver rolled his eyes and grasped her forearm, basically dragging her up into a standing position. “One would assume hope that you’d have learned by now.” He turned away, missing the face Aurelia pulled at him, to grab her jacket from the table. “Come on.”

She struggled to her feet, fixing him with a scowl that would have made the gargoyles on the Trevelyan estate wall jealous. “You were serious? You want to do this _now,_ Olly the sun isn’t even up properly yet!”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure you’re used to lazy mornings and lie ins in your fancy estate but I assure you, here we do things very differently.”

“Shut up, you arsehole.”

“You wanted to be trained, this is the best time to do it without a crowd gathering to watch.”

“UGH.” She groaned, slamming her bedroom door behind them loud enough to draw attention from the still kneeling worshippers. “I’ve told you a million times Olly, I don’t need training I just need to brush up! The skills are there, they exist, they’ve arrived!”

Oliver snorted. “Like Mother would have ever let you train with any kind of weapon Auri.”

She let out a heavy sigh. “Alright Oliver. I’ll play along. But,” She stepped in his path and held a hand up to stop him. “If I beat you, in one on one combat, you let me come out in the field with you. I’m going mad in this castle Olly, you’ve got to let me join you.”

“Auri, we’ve been through this a thousand times…”

“And we’ll go through it a thousand more if we have to! All of your mages can cast basic shields at the very least, if I fall they can keep me protected until I’m back on my feet, just like they do if one of you gets injured. Plus, if I have an episode I’m back on my feet far quicker than I would be if say, Dorian broke his leg, but you have no problem letting him go out with you.”

“Alright, alright, alright!” Oliver held up his hands, to stop her talking as much as anything. “If you beat me, and we both know that’s a big IF, Auri, then I will consider letting you come with me. But, if I beat you, then we stop talking about this, agreed?”

He got a bright smile and a punch in the arm as thanks. “Agreed. Thank you brother!”

“Don’t thank me yet. You’ve got to beat me first.”

-

As it turned out, they did have an audience waiting for them at the ring. Bull and Krem were sitting on the edge of the ring, yawning and scratching heads and arses. Next to them, Varric was far more awake and holding…was that a sheaf of paper? Oliver narrowed his eyes at him as they approached, and Varric shot him a wicked grin and looked not in the least guilty at being caught at making notes for his next book. Sera was swinging herself around the wooden beams of the ring, trying to send the dwarf’s papers flying with every swing. Cole was across the ring from them, head tilted under the unnecessarily large hat. Dorian was next to him, leaning on the fence in a dramatic and thoroughly distracting way. Oliver could see a shape of a love bite appearing just under his collar and inwardly smirked. As they approached from the main entrance, Cullen also appeared into view, standing next to Cassandra a few feet away from the ring. Neither of them had their armour on this early, and they looked much smaller in plain shirts and trousers. Blackwall was nowhere to be found, he was more than likely up in his hayloft, snoring loud enough to wake the horses.

“Good to see you still standing after last night ‘Rel.” Bull called as his sister swung her legs over the fence. Oliver frowned. ‘Rel? Since when did people call Aurelia, ‘Rel? She didn’t seem remotely bothered by it though, and threw the two of them a wink. Krem turned a little pink. Oliver narrowed his eyes. Excellent, now two of the Chargers wanted to fraternise with his sister. Still, he’d rather Krem than Bull. He had nothing at all against the mercenary, he’d even flirted with him a little before meeting Dorian, but the guy was so big. It had been intriguing when it had been him, but when it’s his baby sister, the images were terrifying. Plus, the Quinari wasn’t exactly discreet with his affairs and if Oliver had to hear him bragging about bedding Aurelia to Blackwall or Sera the next time they went out, a part of his soul might actually wither and die.

“Did you actually get all of your group out here to watch us?” Aurelia muttered to him as he bent to pick up some of the blunted weapons they used for practice. A greatsword for him and two daggers for her.

“I may have mentioned it to a couple of them.” He shrugged, handing her the pointed knives. Even blunted, they were still wicked looking instruments. “I think they’re hoping it will be good morning entertainment.” She swung the daggers around a few times, testing the weight. Oliver really didn’t know what to expect. She had never been trained like her brothers had been, but he wouldn’t be surprised to find out that she had stolen some from the small armoury on their estate and practiced on her own. That would hardly help her though, their old trainer had drummed it into them (sometimes physically, with the back of his knuckles) that to train alone while still learning was pointless, as it only cemented mistakes. Either way, he’d easily best her, and then she could get this stupid desire to put herself in danger with him out of her head.

Sera let out a piercing wolf whistle as the two of them shed their jackets, the early morning sun sending goosepimples up Oliver’s arms. He heard the clinking of coins. Of course Varric would be taking bets on this. They faced each other in the centre of the ring, a few feet apart and Oliver raised his sword just above his right shoulder, settling into the familiar stance with ease. Aurelia was less professional, and stuck her tongue out at him.

“First to give?” She grinned.

“You’re very confident for someone who’s about to get her arse handed to her.” Oliver smirked. She reminded him of Ellis when the two of them used to train together. He had always been confident.

“If you look to your right you’ll see a couple of others that also have designs on my arse,” She said, quiet enough for his ears. “And I bet that doesn’t half grate on you.”

“Shut up.”

“You could start fighting me you know, instead of throwing weak insults my way.”

“Come on!” Sera shouted. “While Varric’s still got hair on his chest!”

Oliver closed his eyes, breathed in and out once, opened them again. The mood had changed. She was not his sister, he was a soldier, a fighter, a warrior and she was his opponent.

_Avoid below the waist, she has strong legs and her feet are positioned well. The posture is terrible, if it can be exploited one of the daggers can be knocked out of her hand. Perhaps as she’s turning? Knock into her side with my shoulder, get her off balance, then bring the sword down, force her on the defensive._

Aurelia wasn’t moving, wasn’t in an offensive or defensive position, was simply standing there, watching him. Oliver took one more breath, and charged.

Then pulled himself to a screeching halt. Aurelia had disappeared.

He spun around, momentarily disorientated. She was standing directly behind him, grinning. “Want to try again brother?”

Beginners luck. He must have blinked. Oliver frowned, and charged again. She disappeared and popped up behind him. Again. He turned back while charging, she appeared at his side. He faked his run, and she didn’t move. She was anticipating his every move before he’d even thought of it.

The whole area was silent, save for his increasingly loud grunts of frustration, the eyes of their audience darting from sibling to sibling with a fascination that was almost obscene. She didn’t press any advantage, didn’t even touch him, just let him wear himself out chasing her around the ring, and get more and more angry. And anger led to sloppy mistakes. She had been trained, he realised, and trained very, very well. That knowledge was infuriating. When? By who? It had certainly been happening longer than she had been at Skyhold, her technique was flawless, which ruled out any of the rogues in his acquaintance. There was no way any of them would have been able to train her without it getting back to him. Someone at the estate must have trained her, but Oliver and the rest of their family were warriors, and they had been trained by warriors. So unless one of their servants was more talented than he had let on, or their mother had agreed to send for a master (which she would never have done) then Oliver was at a loss. But even more infuriating was the knowledge that she was playing him against himself, making his strengths weaknesses. If he’d been calm, Oliver would have been impressed. But he was sweating, angry and undoubtedly losing.

Behind him, Bull let out a low, long whistle, and Oliver adjusted his grip on his weapon. If he could bring it down quickly enough to make her think he was actually going to strike her, it would make her pause and he could press the advantage. She had lost the grin, and was now focused and concentrated in a way that he had only ever seen over a book. Her brow was furrowed, cheeks flushed and face shining with sweat. Her eyes were flicking over him, taking in every inch of his form, his posture, undoubtedly making notes in her head for how to proceed. She was a master.

It was pissing him off.

He ran again, and this time she broke into a sprint to meet him. He brought his sword down, waiting for her to move but she kept coming. The heavy weapon was blunted but if it was brought into her shoulder with the amount of force he was currently wielding it with it would dislocate, potentially break her collarbone. Swearing loudly, he pulled it away at the last second, feeling his muscles scream in process.

But she _kept coming_ and he felt the sole of one shoe on his chest, seconds before her other leg wrapped itself around his neck, dragging them both into the dirt. She put a lot of weight into the fall and Oliver was winded. Only for a second, but it was enough time for her to somehow untangle herself from him and straddle his back. Nails dug into his hair and his head was pulled back, exposing his throat to the open air. Knees pushed down on his upper arms, keeping him painfully stuck in place, and the edge of one dagger was pushed against his throat, hard enough for a seed of panic in his gut to bloom. He was trussed up like a pig for slaughter, sword kicked away and out of reach, unable to move his arms without severe pain and breathing through his nose like an angry bull. It had taken less than twenty seconds and she had trumped him.

“I yield, I yield!” He shouted, and instantly the pain lessened as she rolled off him and landed on her back next to him. She was breathing almost as hard as him, chest and stomach harshly rising and falling. Bull had started clapping, and Sera was cackling so hard she almost fell off the fence. Oliver was equal parts proud and embarrassed. He had officially had his ass handed to him by his younger sister, in front of a group of people he was supposed to be the leader of. And yet…for anyone to have that skill was impressive at the very least. She had proved her point, she was more then capable of handling herself. Which put him in an awkward position, as he had been depending on her being a bad fighter as a way of stopping her coming out with them. Now, he had no excuse.

There was the clink of coins being exchanged, but the Trevelyan siblings said not a word, catching their breath and (in Oliver’s case) attempting to regain some dignity. A minute or so had passed before he finally raised his head and stared at her. Her arm was thrown over her eyes, but her lips were twitching upwards in what looked like a proud smirk.

“Aurelia, where the fuck did you learnt that?” She huffed a chuckle as he dragged himself to his feet and looked down at her.

“Do you remember Gavrin, the old gardener?” An old man, almost too frail to do his job, but he’d been there since their grandparents were young, so it was their duty to look after him in his dotage.

“Please don’t tell me I got beat by an apprentice of someone who was already almost dead when the Fifth Blight took place.” She rolled her eyes, but grabbed the hand he offered her, hoisting herself to her feet.

“Don’t be a dick Olly. But no. He had a nephew that used to visit him. No one else would have seen him, he kept out of sight in their cottage most of the time, and none of the rest of you ever ventured that far down the garden. But I used to see him practicing, and convinced him to teach me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You convinced him?”

She flushed a little. “I may…have told Gavrin and his wife that Mother wanted me to learn. They wouldn’t have said anything to her about it and it’s not like she would have found out any other way!” She said indignantly to his reproachful stare. “Besides, he was the first person who didn’t treat me differently because of whatever my body decides to do. And while we’re on the subject…” It was his turn to roll his eyes, turning away to throw their weapons back on the pile as the two of them exited the ring.

Cassandra was there, one eyebrow raised, and she nodded at Aurelia. “Impressive.” Not even the Seeker could remain stone faced at Aurelia’s ear splitting grin in response.

“Do you need any more proof Olly, really? Cassandra, would you be happy riding out with me somewhere?”

The warrior tilted her head to the side slightly, then sighed in a way that sounded like she had just accepted the inevitable. “There would be a lot to take into consideration, but yes, I think it could work. It would also be nice to have a rogue in the party that isn’t constantly grating on my nerves.” She glared at Varric and Sera.

“That is high praise, Seeker.” Oliver said. Aurelia was staring at him, eyes wide. Andraste’s ass. He threw his hands into the air in defeat.

“Fine. At the next war council meeting I will look over what we still have to do and pick something for you. You’re not coming to the Emerald Graves, or Emprise de Lion, but there might be a couple of things left to do in the Hinterlands that you can help with. And only if Solas is free, he’s the most talented at healing and barriers.” The hug she gave him could have crushed a bear.

“Olly, thank you! You won’t regret this I swear.” He groaned, half exasperation and half genuine discomfort. “There's a War Council meeting tomorrow morning. Find me afterwards and in the meantime go and get Harritt to fit you with some proper gear. There’s no time to make you your own armor but he’s got some stock in he can alter for you. And there should be plenty of daggers for you to choose from.”

“But not,” A voice interjected, and Bull appeared at his elbow. “Before she joins the Chargers for morning practices. I wanna see those moves again.”

 _Oh, I bet you do_ Oliver thought a little sourly, but moved aside regardless and let the Quinari lead his sister back to the ring.

“Well, I certainly enjoyed the show.” Dorian drawled, falling into step beside him and sliding their hands together.

Oliver chuckled. “I was sweating and held down on the ground. You’d enjoy that whatever the context was.”

“Hush, when you say it aloud it spoils the illusion. Although now that you mention it, it does remind me of that time in the tent in the Fallow Mire.”

“Only you would have thought of doing something like that when we were camping in the middle of a bog.”

“You have to admit, it made the trip much more fun. And Vivienne stopped glaring eventually.”

“Speak for yourself, she’s definitely still bitter I dragged her to a swamp.”

“Well,” Dorian said, as they reached the door to the rotunda. “So was I, but you were present, so the insult was lessened considerably.”

“The things you say.” Oliver said and Dorian chuckled, eyes bright as the morning sun shone into the main hall. The mage pressed his lips to his cheek, then waved him off in an impressively decadent way.

“Go on, go and beat up some dummies or whatever it is you spend your days doing. I’ll be in the library if you need me.”

“Like you’re ever anywhere else.” Oliver replied in farewell, and watched Dorian leave.

In his room, the fire was still crackling merrily away, doing its best to fight the chill of the morning. All hopes of catching in another hour or so of sleep before his daily training with his assassin mentor was dashed when he saw the letters on his desk. Josephine must have had someone deliver the latest pile while he was at the ring. He approached his desk warily. The familiar cursive script, the green wax with the symbol…what he wouldn’t give for these to just be another social climber claiming close friendship with him. He sighed, picking one up and swiping his finger under the Trevelyan seal.

_Oliver,_

_I know you must be busy, my son, but I must beg a few moments of your time-_

He rubbed the crease in his forehead and put the letter to the side. The rest were in a similar vein, some pleading and whiny, others malicious. Carefully, he gathered them all together and placed them on the fire. Watching the sheafs of paper curl away into nothing, the room felt slightly colder than it had before.

-

“I mean, the way you just played with him, made him look like a lumbering halfwit in his first training session! I’ve been out with the boss before and he’s a damn good fighter but you made him look like a whelp! Shit, ‘Rel that was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!”

Aurelia snorted, walking with Bull to the war room the following morning. “Be careful who you say that to, Bull. He took getting his ass kicked well but I doubt your raving would sit well with him.”

The Quinari ignored her. “That armour’s looking pretty good, you excited to get out there and kick some ass?”

She grinned. “More than I can say. That is, provided Oliver doesn’t find another reason to keep me here where it’s ‘safe’.”

“What’ll you do if he does?”

“Kick his ass again. And again, if needed.” She replied, scowling. “Because he'll really deserve it.”

“Well, I look forward to following you around Thedas soon enough.” Bull said, and winked at her before sauntering towards the door to Dagna’s smithy, most likely looking for something new to cause mayhem with. Aurelia grinned to herself as she walked past Josephine’s empty desk. She wasn’t particularly attracted to Bull (although she had to admit, the concept was intriguing) and she didn’t think he ran so much on hormones that sleeping with the boss’s sister seemed like a good idea, but flirting with a Quinari and having him flirt outrageously back was a bit of a novelty. But no, Aurelia was under no delusions about where she stood with Bull.

The doors to the war room were closed as she approached, so she dithered about in the corridor for a minute or two before voices floated through the thick wood to her ears. She considered not listening in, but there wasn’t much else to do except stare at the bit of sky she could see through the massive hole in the wall that apparently, no one had thought to fix?

“I see no reason why she cannot go. People have travelled further, for longer, in far worse condition than her.”

“Just because you travelled with a elderly mage that was only kept alive by the help of a spirit, Leliana, does not mean that everyone should be held to the same standard. But I will admit, the image of the Inquisitor trekking across Thedas with his sister, righting wrongs where they find it, will certainly go down well with our allies.”

Well at least Leliana, terrifying as she is, was on her side. And Josephine was always such a peacemaker, Aurelia would have to bring her some flowers.

“Do we have anything simple that needs taking care of?” That was Oliver’s voice and she silently thanked Andraste that he wasn’t searching for a loophole, even if he was still playing the role of mother hen and trying to keep her wrapped up in cotton for most of her life. “There was a case of a lost Druffalo on the farms at Redcliffe…”

“Are we babysitting farmers now?” That was the Commander, and he sounded irritable. “Inquisitor, are you certain you wish to bring your sister with you?”

“Not particularly, but she would kill me if I backed out now.”

“Damn right I would.” Aurelia muttered.

“Do you have some concerns, Commander?” Josephine asked in her lovely, lilting voice.

There was a pause, and Aurelia frowned. She and the Commander had never had a proper conversation, the most they had spoken was that evening on the balcony, but he had always been polite and courteous whenever they passed each other. Did he not like her all of a sudden?

“Please Cullen,” Oliver said. “Say what’s on your mind.”

“Inquisitor, I…” He sighed, sounding a lot like her brother. “I saw you two in the ring, I have no doubt that she’s a capable warrior. But should she fall in battle, potentially two of your group are compromised, if one expends energy trying to keep her protected. If you’re faced with a rift or a Red Templar then you may not be able to afford a loss like that. And there are appearances to think of. A companion of the Inquisitor that can’t control when she becomes a liability could reflect badly on our soldiers and capability.”

Another pause. “Careful there Commander, you’re starting to sound like my mother.” There was a forced lightness to Oliver’s voice that made it very clear the Commander was on thin ice.

“I speak only as the leader of your army, Inquisitor, and give my opinion as such.” Cullen said formally.

“Red, hot, embarrassed. I’m a burden, like Mama always said. Weighing down others, always having to think of me, make sure I’m safe and taken care of, even when I’m fine. Eyes like a lion, why did it have to be him? Am I more what I have than what I am? Why would she think that?”

Aurelia jerked back from the door, biting the inside of her cheek to hide her noise of surprise. Josephine let out a small scream.

“Cole? You really have to stop appearing on tables like this.”

“But the hurt is old, aching, it made her who she is. Can’t untangle it without everything else crumbling.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She didn’t mean to listen. Surprised the Nightingale cared, hurt that you didn’t. Covered in metal you shine, but always just a man. Beloved by soldiers, believing in everyone, why not her?”

Aurelia didn’t wait to hear the rest. She turned and ran, through the main hall, down the stairs and across the drawbridge. She followed the path as it turned, slowing her pace only when Skyhold was hidden by rock. Then, she slowed to a walk, trying to even her breathing as a wagon of supplies trundled past her. There was a stabbing pain in her side, and she embraced the discomfort, focusing on it.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” She shouted, slamming her fist into the side of the mountain. All that happened was now her hand hurt as much as her side. She forced back the tears, squeezing her eyes shut. She should be used to this by now. She knew that as much as Oliver, Lukas and Cian had tried to reassure that she wasn’t, she was a liability. Maker knows Mother and Ellis had told her enough times. Yet here she was, running away, trying not to cry and punching stone because a man she barely knew thought people would respect her less if they saw her have a fit. She pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes hard enough that sparks of colour popped into her vision when she blinked.

“Get it together Aurelia, get it together. If Oliver sees you like this you’ll be lucky to be going anywhere before your 90th birthday.” Damn them, damn them all. Damn anyone who thought she wasn’t good enough, who defined her by her condition. She proved herself over and over again, getting to Skyhold from Ostwick alone, beating the leader of the Inquisition in a fight, and yet she still wasn’t good enough, couldn't even be trusted on some meaningless mission because she could fuck everything up and put other people in arms way. Well. She’d show them.

But it was still another hour or so before she slunk back into Skyhold, and even then she regretted coming back when she saw Oliver waiting for her, arms folded and face like thunder.

“Looks like you're in trouble, Frizz.” Varric said, as he passed her. Aurelia didn’t want to inflate his ego any further, but it looked like the dwarf was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is interested in being my beta, please drop me a message! I'd love a second pair of eyes to go over my stuff but no one I know is a big Dragon Age fan, unfortunately. I really need new friends.


	4. The Hinterlands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hi there! I know it's been a while but in my defence...  
> I don't really have a defence BUT I was in the middle of deadlines for my final year of university so that kinda counts?  
> Anyway, I hope this chapter is a suitable apology! I've had this particular event planned from the start, hope it doesn't disappoint.  
> Massive shoutout to pinklyrium for being a sick beta and reminding me that Varric's vocabulary doesn't consist of just the word "fuck" (probably getting him confused with myself lol)

The Hinterlands were beautiful. Familiar too, in an odd sort of way. Aurelia had never been anywhere in Fereldan but the acres of grass could be mistaken for the land around the Trevelyan estate. The group had encountered no trouble on the three-day journey there, nor as they travelled through it to one of the Inquisition camps. The peace was, Varric had assured her, wildly different to how it had been when Oliver had first arrived with him, Solas and Cassandra in tow. 

“Templars and mages popping out of the ground, they were everywhere Frizz!” 

“Oh and the rifts, the rifts Frizz! The damn things were everywhere. I mean shit, I was expecting a lot of them but this was incomprehensible.” 

“And then to top it all off, the wolves had gone insane, organised themselves into some sort of gang led by a demon of all things. Until your brother charged in and showed them the error of their ways.” 

Much of the journey had been full of Varric reminiscing about the shit the group had had to deal with on their first visit to the Hinterlands, with Oliver constantly and unnecessarily reassuring her that most of the danger was gone, and Solas occasionally chiming in with corrections or a dry comment. Aurelia was a little surprised that her brother had chosen to bring the elf over Dorian, for his talent with offensive magic if not his company. She suspected, however, that Solas had a talent for healing magic, and had been designated her babysitter should they run into trouble. The principle of it irked her, but the apostate was pleasant enough and wasn’t remotely put off by her barrage of questions. If anything, he seemed to enjoy her nosiness about his travels and became more and more animated as they conversed. 

Those that they passed at the Crossroads did a double take. When the Inquisition had first helped the refugees, and cleared out the mass of rifts all over the countryside, they’d barely been worth a raised eyebrow from the clerics in Val Royeux. Now, they commanded a small army and were Thedas’ last great hope to defeat Corypheus. Riding four horses, in full armour and weapons also looked slightly more impressive than four scruffy misfits roaming the countryside carrying blankets for refugees, as Varric described it.

By the time they reached Redcliffe Farms, the sun was setting on the third day and Aurelia had nearly sprained her neck twisting her head around to take everything in. Oliver had flatly refused to let her get off her horse and explore anything, and so the group had had to deal with her incessant questions. They dismounted at the Inquisition camp and a foot soldier led their horses to the stream to drink, while the four of them stretched their limbs and took in the scene around them. Aurelia liked the look of the farms, very much. Everything was closed and yet open, private and yet public. All the farmers had their own houses, with candles brightly burning in the windows, where they could rest their limbs at the end of the day and enjoy the seclusion of their family life. But at this time of day, with the deep orange of the fading sun making everything seem lazily cheerful, there was plenty of life outside yet. Farmhands were leading Druffalo back into their stables for the evening, while farmers chatted and joked with each over their threadbare fences. Wives and elder children were in the gardens, pulling up herbs and weeding by the last light of the day, while children ran in between all of these goings on, shrieking and giggling. All memories of the terror and fear that had been in these lands just a few months previously seemed forgotten, but it was hard not to notice the watchtowers rising above the treeline, surrounding the farms in a protective semi-circle. 

It may look like all had been healed and forgotten, but the farms were prepared now, and would not be taken by surprise again. Oliver departed to deliver letters from Skyhold’s horsemaster to his wife and daughter, and Aurelia took the chance to wander around the border of the farms while Varric eased his boots off by the fire and Solas disappeared into his tent. The long grass touched the tips of her fingers as she skirted the houses, the air buzzing with evening crickets and full of the smells of home cooking. She smiled as she climbed a small hill behind Dennet’s house and felt the full glare of the evening sun on her face. Yes, this, this was freedom. Open fields, honest work and the ability to run free. Or as free as possible while there’s a massive fucking green hole in the sky, that is. When she was younger, trapped in her gaudy, confining room with one window in her slanted roof to show her the outside world, fantasies had played through her mind of running away to live on a little farm on her own. No servants, no items of plated gold, no dinner bells and stilted useless small talk with her mother. Just her, and acres and acres of open space. As she’d got older the fantasy had stayed much the same, save for the addition of a handsome blonde farmhand or two. It wasn’t until she was in her mid-twenties that the fantasy seemed to have slipped out of her reach, disappearing into the kaleidoscope that made up the rest of her childhood dreams. Owning her own little corner of the world where she might fade into obscurity, ignored and forgotten by the world at large, now seemed as unachievable as her dreams to sprout wings and fly. 

The sound of approaching footsteps startled her out of the deep mire of her thoughts and she turned to see her brother approaching. He smiled at her. “You looked so lost in thought, I didn’t want to disturb you.” 

She turned up a corner of her mouth in reply. “There’s so much open space, I hardly know what to do with myself.” 

He nudged her with his shoulder. “And so, is the world everything you hoped?” 

“This is hardly the entire world Oliver, and I suspect you went to great pains to bring me to one of the safest areas under your purview. But thank you, all the same. It’s beautiful here.” 

“I wouldn’t speak too soon.” He laughed. “We’re searching for a lost Druffalo tomorrow, and the beasts are known to be slow and difficult. You’ll be praying for your bedroom before the morning is out.” 

Aurelia snorted. “Please, how hard could it be?”

–

“What was it you were saying?” Oliver bellowed over the din, approximately eleven hours later. 

Sweat was streaming down her face as she leapt out of the path of a shard of ice. It exploded into the ground where she had been standing just seconds before. “These demons just won’t fucking die.” She muttered to herself and started climbing up the rocky mountainside towards the despair demon that was intent on freezing her ass of. 

“Solas, focus! The bloody thing almost got her.” Her brother shouted, ducking out of the way of a wisp while holding his palm up to the open rift. They’d stumbled upon the thing just metres from the camp, and there seemed to be no end of the demons it was spawning. To make it worse, as soon as he realised the fight was unavoidable, Oliver had stuck to her like a fly on shit. She’d managed to kick him away after a swipe of his hammer had nearly knocked her out, and he’d finally desisted, her expletives ringing in his ears as he gave her a bit of breathing room. But now he was taking it as a personal insult every time Solas wasn’t covering her with a barrier. 

“I’m a little busy right now Inquisitor!” She heard Solas from somewhere to her left and spared a glance his way. His cool and calm demeanour was broken, he was almost as sweaty as she was, a deep frown on his face as he tried to fight three wisps at once. 

“Leave it Oliver, I’m fine!” She ducked and leapt. The demon had an annoying habit of leaping great distances, but when actually hit it was easily taken down. Just as she was about to strike the final blow an bolt shot out of nowhere and hit it squarely in the face. It went down with a squeal that would have put her mother to shame and disappeared into thin air.  
Aurelia twisted around to see Varric shouldering Bianca with a smug grin. “You’re welcome Frizz.” He chuckled at the glare on her face. 

“I hate dwarves.” 

Hours later, Aurelia pulled her soaking wet boots off her soaking wet feet and groaned at the stench. “I hate Druffalos.” 

“You hate a lot of things today.” Varric observed dragging his arms out of his dripping coat and hanging it over the fire, burning merrily away in the Inquisition camp. 

“Well then, let me be more specific,” she replied, wringing out her hair. “I hate dwarves when they steal my kills, I hate Druffalos when they get friendly, but always and forever, with the passion of a thousand burning suns, I hate Druffalo saliva.” 

“Surely you would rather the beasts give you affection than charge at you?” Solas cut in. The elf was sitting a few feet away from the fire, washing his clothes in the stream. 

“The moonlight’s illuminating you in such a lovely way Solas, tell me is that a natural highlight or is that Druffalo spit shining on the dome of your head?” Aurelia retorted and Varric hacked a cough into his plate of meat. Solas ignored her, laying his shirt out on a rock. 

“Oliver please tell me there are some spare clothes in this camp?” She asked, pulling her shirt away from where it was plastered to her skin, swallowing nausea as strands of saliva came with it. Her brother didn’t seem remotely put off by his new glistening shell and was laying spread eagled on his back, staring up at the stars. 

“No.” 

“…You’re joking.” 

“Afraid not, sister. Unless you fancy wearing metal plate for the rest of trip, I suggest you suck it up and wash your clothes.” 

“I hate you.”

Varric pulled out a sheaf of paper, bottle of ink and a quill, miraculously still dry, from his bag and immediately began scratching away. “Aurelia Trevelyan, unknown sibling of the great Inquisitor, hidden away all her life, is back and full of hatred for everything, including innocent and incredibly handsome dwarves…” 

“Varric.” 

“The weight of the world on her powerful shoulders, light in her eyes but a secret darkness in her heart…” 

“Varric.” 

“Who knows where she’ll turn that beacon of hatred next? A root that dares to trip her up while she’s walking? Weather that, Andraste preserve us, turns foul in her presence?”  
There was a noise that sounded vaguely like a plunger being released from a wet surface and the dwarf went reeling backwards as the full force of a shirt drenched in Druffalo spit hit him in the face. Even Solas started chuckling at the look on his face. 

\- 

It was, in total, two and a half weeks between the group leaving Skyhold and returning. The thing with the Hinterlands, as Aurelia had found out, was that there was always something more to be done. Life for the farmers may have returned to something related to normal, but the refugees were still struggling. They’d found a hunter, and ended up chasing ram around the outskirts of the Crossroads for a day and a half. Then there was the elven widow with the murdered husband, the young lord who’d joined the weird cult in the hills waiting for a love that would never appear, and the old elf too feeble to make the journey to his wife’s grave, to name a few errands they landed themselves with. The stories and struggles of these real people, affected so much by events out of their control, pulled hard on Aurelia’s heart, and the only person who matched her determination once she was set on a task was her brother. Varric joked frequently that he realised now how the two were related. 

Mostly, Aurelia was surprised by the amount of walking they did. By the time they were dismounting at Skyhold stables she counted seven new blisters on her feet and was convinced there was about three inches of dust and grime on her. But she made sure to hide her exhaustion from Oliver, as she was well aware that he’d deliberately made this a very easy campaign into a very safe area, because of her, and she’d be damned if this was the last time he’d let her out because he caught hints that she was so tired she was tempted to fall asleep against the side of Blackwall’s barn. 

“You coming to the Rest tonight Frizz?” Varric asked her as she dismounted, cricking his neck. “I’d say we’ve earned a drink or ten.” Aurelia grinned and gave her mare a last pat on the neck before relinquishing her to one of the stable hands. 

“Try and stop me. Just give a few hours to scrape off this disgusting layer of skin and grow a new one, and I’ll come and find you.” He slapped her on the arm and left. She bid farewell to Solas and leant against the barn, watching Oliver untack his mount. “Have I proved myself then big brother?” She said and he let out a breath of laughter, hanging the fine leather saddle on the fence. 

“Well, it wasn’t as if you didn’t have any incidents.” 

“Only a few!” She replied, indignant. “And they were fine, as they always are, and I recovered, as I always do.” 

He didn’t answer for a minute, handing the care of his horse over to Dennet and falling into step alongside her as they walked up the stairs to the main courtyard. She thought for a minute that he was ignoring her, until he finally spoke. “I have to go to the Western Approach soon, to meet Hawke and Stroud. Could use someone handy with a couple of daggers, if you’re up for it.” 

She tripped over a step. “Are you serious? You want to take me along on a proper, important ‘this is the Inquisition and we’re saving the world from Corypheus’ type mission?”

“Well, of course I don’t want to. You’re my little sister and everything in me wants to protect you for the rest of my life. But…you did good. You did really, really good, and I’m proud of you. So, if you want, you’re welcome to join. I’ll even bring Dorian or Vivienne, if that’ll make you feel less mother-!”

Aurelia had thrown her arms around Oliver’s neck, crushing him in a hug so tight it was almost painful. “Auri…can’t…breathe…” 

Her grin was so large it was almost splitting her face in two as she pulled away. “Oliver you are the best person I have ever known, although that isn’t saying much, because I haven't known a lot of them. Thank you, brother.” 

And then, because she didn’t know how else to properly express her feelings, she punched him in the arm and quickly left before she embarrassed herself any more. Oliver watched her head towards the garden, the grin on his own face embarrassingly large. He hadn’t seen his sister as happy as she had been while in the Hinterlands for a long time. It felt grounding, a sense of home and comfort that he hadn’t really felt since leaving the Trevelyan estate, although Dorian had filled the void some. Speaking of… 

He started up the steps to the main hall, determined to find the man when he saw the very subject of his thoughts leaning against the large doorframe, oozing confidence that would have been irritating on anyone else. Oliver was no fool, he knew that Dorian was more puppy than man and would have been watching for their arrival from the library window, before rushing down the steps to make it look like the complete opposite, but it didn’t lessen the effect in the slightest. 

“You look like you’ve been dragged backwards through a hedge.” The mage commented indifferently, barely sparing him a glance as he examined his nails. Oliver laughed, reaching the wide archway. Instead of pulling him into a kiss, like he would normally do however, he began to walk past Dorian. 

“Come on then.” He said, not looking back to see whether his lover was following. “I need a bath. Maybe I’ll even let you scrub my back, if you’re very lucky.” 

It wasn’t until he was halfway through the hall, passing the horrible Orlesian decorations Josephine and Vivienne had demanded (in their own polite way) that the room be decorated with, that he felt the slim hand slip into his bigger one. “I missed you,” Dorian said, pressing a light kiss to his cheekbone as they walked in time together. 

“I missed you too.” He replied quietly. “But I meant what I said about my back.” “Maker, you do know how to reel a man in, don’t you.” 

\- 

Much later, a few hours after the night torches had been lit, Aurelia exited her room, feeling fresh for the first time since their encounter with the Druffalo. Josephine had left a bottle of her favourite scented hair oil on her pillow, ordered from Val Royeux just for her and she let herself indulge for a moment in the scents of lemon and lime floating around her somewhat tamed curls. Despite being right in the middle of the Frostbacks, Skyhold was plenty warm at night, thanks to the mages that worked for the Inquisition, and Aurelia had forsaken her thick travelling clothes for snug leggings, boots, and an old shirt of Lukas’ that she had brought from the Trevelyan estate. It was far too big for her, Lukas being both taller and broader than both her and Oliver, if it was possible, and bared both shoulders to the open air. It was the kind of clothing she would have worn while relaxing at home, and she pondered about what that meant about how she viewed Skyhold as she entered the hall. 

“Frizz!” Varric called from his seat by the fire, as soon as she walked into his eyeline. He too had cleaned up, and already had a mug in his hand. “Shall we be off? Bull and the Chargers have already set themselves up for the night, it looks like it’s gonna be a messy one.” 

She grinned at his enthusiasm. “You go ahead Varric, I’ve just got to give something to Cole and then I’ll be down.” He waved her off and she laughed as he essentially launched himself out of his chair and towards the entrance, hungry for drink and good stories. 

She opted to take the route to Cole’s regular spot via the battlements, knowing that if she went through the inn she’d get distracted by alcohol and never find him in the end. It wasn’t until she nearly walked into him that she saw Cullen leaning on one of the battlements, reading a report by the light of a torch. She knew he had a reputation for working hard, Bull and Sera were constantly making jokes about his work ethic being completely made up of sexual frustration, but this was ridiculous. She guessed he’d come outside with the intention of a bit of fresh air and had either been stupid enough to bring work outside with him or a soldier had interrupted his brief respite. Either way, he needed to learn where to draw the line. Had they been closer, she might have made a joke about it all as she passed him, but considering that they barely knew each other and what she’d heard him say in the War Room last time they’d met, it didn’t seem like he’d welcome her jokes, or her friendship for that matter. 

He jerked up as she walked by, noticing her for the first time. “Oh! I…forgive me, you startled me.”

Aurelia smiled at him. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget I don’t need to be stealthy all the time.” 

“No, no matter.” 

There was an awkward pause, and she cleared her throat. “Well, good evening Commander.” 

“Yes. Did everything go alright in the Hinterlands?” 

“Aside from the Druffalo?” She quipped, and he chuckled. It sounded rough, like he didn’t laugh often, but it was quite a pleasant sound. 

“Aside from that yes.” 

“It was all fine.” 

“Any, uh, incidents?” She frowned, feeling her cheeks reddening. “I was able to keep myself from becoming a liability if that’s what you mean. Excuse me Commander, I really must get on.” 

“No! No, I…” He stepped into her path, almost unconsciously judging her by the look on his face. It was an odd mixture of surprise and embarrassment. It made him look rather constipated. She met his look head on, eyebrows raised. 

“Lady Trevelyan, I…I feel like I should apologise.” 

“Whatever for Commander?”

He sighed, rubbed his neck and avoided her eyes. “I should not have made the comments that you overheard. It was rude and insensitive to speak about you in such base terms. I was attempting to separate the practicalities of your…condition from yourself as a person, but I fear I expressed myself wrong. For that, and any offence caused, I apologise.”  
The apology was clearly rehearsed, and she had a dozen snarky replies on her tongue, about how he was likely only apologising because of her brother, and that he wasn’t sorry he made the comments, he was probably just sorry she’d caught him out. But still…he was probably the first person ever to apologise for assumptions made about her because of her fits, outside of her family. That wasn’t nothing. Besides, he looked like he’d been kicked, and it was a little sad to witness. She gave him a bright smile and lightly tapped the armour on his forearm with the small leather notebook in her hand. 

“I’ll let it go this time Commander, just don’t let me catch you again.” 

The answering upward tilt of his lips was pleasing. “Very kind of you, Lady Trevelyan.” 

“I keep telling you Commander,” She said over her shoulder as she walked away. “It’s Aurelia. I’m no lady.” 

After giving Cole his gift (a notebook filled with accounts of funny things that had happened to them all in the Hinterlands, written by her in their quiet evenings by the campfire), Aurelia finally, finally found herself seated in a corner of the Herald’s Rest, filled to bursting with soldiers and Chargers, with her third mug of wine disappearing quickly down her throat. Varric was regaling everyone with ‘The Tale of the Affectionate Druffalo’ and everything was fading to a pleasant buzz.

Bull was laughing at Varric’s story so hard he was making the table shake and it was tipping all their drinks over. “Careful Chief!” Krem said, reaching across and grabbing her mug just before it disappeared out of sight. She grinned as he handed it back to her. The warrior had shed his armour and Aurelia noted that the tips of his fingers were surprisingly soft.

“Does he always cause this much damage when he’s enjoying himself?” She asked him. That led to jokes about the state of Iron Bull’s bed, which led to more laughter and more drinks, in a night that seemed to last forever. 

When she woke up the next morning, the buzz had completely disappeared. It had been replaced however, by pounding headache and the figure of Dorian in her doorway. 

“Well, well, well…” His voice cut through the white noise in her head and somewhere from her parched throat she managed to force out a pained groan. She smacked her lips together, tasting stale wine and something else she couldn’t quite place. 

“What do we have here?” Dorian sounded far, far too pleased with himself. 

“What are you talking about?” Aurelia managed to whisper. Then she realised, with a jolt of shock that had her flying upwards, that there was a warm arm lying across her stomach. Her bare stomach.

Please, please, don’t let it be Bull, she prayed, before inching her gaze to the left. 

It was Krem. Naked. In her bed. That she was in. Also naked. 

Oh right. That was what she had done.


	5. The Mug of Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of today, Collide has over 400 hits and 50 kudos aND YOU. GUYS. Seriously, I don't know how to thank you for all the bookmarks, comments, kudos and all that glorious stuff. It means so much that you're all taking the time to read what is essentially word vomit from my inner mind lol. Long may this story continue!
> 
> Again, big thanks to pinklyrium for being a fab beta and being an always supportive and reassuring force. Thanks gal.

Dorian couldn’t remember the last time he’d been full of such pure happiness. Admittedly, waking up to what promised to be a beautiful day, in the arms of the man he loved (who was naked, always a positive) who he had all to himself for at least the next three days was a fairly glorious thing. But bursting into Aurelia’s room with the intention of kick-starting her hangover, only to find her naked in bed with the Iron Bull’s second in command definitely took the cake. The sweet, oozing with the promise of embarrassment, cake. 

A bright red was slowly making its way up the rogue’s neck, settling in her cheeks and colouring them a rather impressive shade of crimson. She was staring at the still sleeping Krem, looking rather like she was being suffocated, as the memories of the previous night seemed to click into place. Dorian, overflowing with glee, was thinking more of the consequences of this single night of passion. Delicious, delicious consequences. Skyhold may be large but it may as well have been a playground the way gossip travelled around the place. Dorian gave it…two days before the whole castle knew, less if Bull found out and subsequently got drunk, which was almost certain. Leliana probably already knew, Josephine would know soon after but the real question was…when was the dear Inquisitor going to find out? Dorian was not a particularly devout man but he would happily join the Chantry for the rest of his life if only he could be the one to break the news to Oliver. He was wondering how far away from the Inquisitor Krem would have to be to remain unbruised, when the man in question began to shift and awaken. 

Aurelia was staring at Dorian, looking like a rabbit in a trap, when Krem’s head appeared next to hers. His mouth was opening and shutting rather beautifully, as he took in everything around him and came to the inevitable conclusion that he, loyal warrior Krem, had fucked his boss’ boss’ sister. Dorian could have sunbathed under the heat coming off the cheeks of the pair laying in front of him, who were studiously avoiding each other’s gaze. “Well…” he put on his best drawl. “Good morning, lovebirds.” 

“Dorian…” Judging by her voice, Aurelia had been at Blackwall’s stash of brandy last night, never a wise idea. 

“Now now, I wouldn’t judge. In fact, it’s always heartening to see romance blossom between two members of our beloved organisation, especially in less than happy times like these. As you well know, myself and your darling brother have found our happiness together. Speaking of, when do you plan to inform brother dearest about this latest development?” 

Krem went a little pale and Dorian grinned. Aurelia swung her legs out of the bed and then stopped as she realised that there was only one blanket on the bed, ergo either she or Krem would be left naked to the elements. Dorian was aware he’d outstayed his welcome, and decided to depart, but not before saying “I’ll let you two get back down to it” in an exaggerated whisper before flamboyantly pulling the door shut and leaving them to. 

 

-

Aurelia was not often lost for words. She had quite a lot of opinions on quite a lot of subjects and was used to having to shout to get them heard. But sat here in her tiny bedroom, naked with a very dishevelled (but cute) Krem, who was also naked, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Part of her mind was processing the realisation that Krem had very nice shoulders, the rest of it was screaming. He was leaning on his elbows, seemingly very fascinated in the wrinkles in the blanket. 

She managed about five more seconds of gut wrenchingly awkward silence before words bubbled up her throat and entered the world. “Fuck, Krem. What the fuck did we do last night?” 

He groaned. “The last thing I remember is Dalish dancing on the tables.” 

“Maker,” Aurelia snorted. “and then Bull tried to join in and the one of the barmaids started screaming at him.” 

“I’d bet anything that ended with the two of them in bed.” Krem snickered, before realising he was in very much the same position and colouring slightly. “Um…would you mind if I…?” 

“Oh! No, not at all.” She turned her head away, as if that was going to help either of them feel like they had a sense of privacy. There was the patter of Krem’s feet on the stone floor, then the rustling of fabric, then “Bloody hell.” 

“What?” 

He was examining himself in the spotted mirror Josephine had paid someone to attach to her wall. Aurelia’s gaze travelled down his jawline to his neck, and saw what he was talking about. “Shit. Did I do that?” 

His neck was covered in bite marks, some still red, others already beginning to purple. Aurelia was caught somewhere between embarrassment and pride. “Well, if we had any chance of keeping this quiet before we definitely don’t now.” Then, a thought struck her. “Did you want to keep this quiet? I didn’t want to assume…but I thought this was just…unless you, of course…” Maker, she was stuttering worse than Cullen. 

Krem came and sat on the edge of her bed, picking up his belt and boots as he did so. He was blushing, but the smile he gave her was genuine. “I think that last night was a night for drinking too much and letting off a bit of steam. With both of those aims achieved,” He touched the side of his neck again. “Well, I suppose what happens now is up to you.” 

She chewed her lip for a moment, then stuck out her hand. “Friends?” 

She would have been a little hurt at how relieved he looked if she hadn’t been equally as relieved that he took it so well. He grasped it, soft hands squeezing hers. “Friends.” 

“You’re a good man Cremissius Aclassi.” 

“One of the best, if last night’s noises were anything to go by.” 

“Andraste’s ass!” She groaned and fell backwards onto her pillow. “Don’t act like you remember anything about last night better than me.” 

The bed started to shake and she looked to see the warrior trying (and failing) to hold in his laughter. 

“Sorry,” he said, noticing her gaze. “I was just thinking about the Chief’s reaction when he finds out.” 

The image of Bull, equal parts pride and jealousy, popped into her head and before she knew it, the two of them were snorting with laughter. 

“He won’t have to wait very long seeing as Dorian knows.” She chuckled, then groaned. “Oh fuck, but Oliver…” 

Krem swallowed and said, half serious. “He’s going to kill me.” 

“No way.” She reassured him. “Don’t get me wrong, he will undoubtedly have an incredibly dramatic and unnecessary reaction, they’re his specialty, but if he goes anywhere near you with the aim of doing anything other than congratulating you for giving his sister a fun night then he’ll end up on his ass, I’ll make sure of it." 

He didn’t look particularly reassured, not that she could blame him. Another awkward silence fell upon them and Krem cleared his throat. “Well, I should probably…” 

“Oh, oh yeah ok. Um…I guess I’ll see you around then.” There was the sound of boots scuffling across the floor, the squeak of the door opening and closing and then for the first time in hours, Aurelia was alone in her room. She swore and pulled the blanket over her head. If only she could bury herself away from the world until this blew over. 

-

It had been almost three days since she and Krem had slept together, and neither he nor Oliver was speaking to her. In fact, Krem seemed to be doing everything in his power to avoid her. She wasn’t angry about it, she knew how shy the man was about women but it was getting a little ridiculous, and it was hard not to be offended when she turned up to the training ring to spar with Bull and Krem immediately left. Oliver just glared, even more than usual. Thankfully he hadn’t done anything to Krem, it was she who seemed to be dealing with the brunt of his anger. Exactly why he was so angry she had no idea. More than likely he’d got the actual events all twisted up in his head (with the help of a few of their friends, no doubt) and become irrationally offended about everything that had happened. 

Varric, Bull and Dorian had not helped matters in the slightest, of course. No one else in Skyhold had enjoyed the unfolding of Aurelia and Krem’s ‘little tale’, as Varric liked to call it, as much as the three of them. She kept finding little scraps of paper pushed under her bedroom door, usually detailing some wild romantic interaction between herself and the Tevinter with stupidly flowery language. Judging by the way Cassandra looked at herself and Krem at the moment, she was not the only one the dwarf had been sharing his writings with. The Iron Bull kept striding up to her, throwing a tree sized arm around her shoulders and begging to know (in a very loud voice) how his second in command had been in the sack, and whether or not he’d done the Qunari proud. Aurelia dreaded to think what he was asking Krem when the two of them were together. And Dorian…the man seemed to be running solely on the enjoyment he got from observing the way she and Krem were tip toeing around each other. It was likely that for the foreseeable future he was going to greet her with some highly intelligent and witty remark on her rollicking sex life. 

All in all, a slightly uncomfortable few days at Skyhold. But when, on the morning of the fourth day, when her brother greeted her with another grunt, Aurelia decided she had had enough. 

“Do you remember when you were sixteen?” She said by way of saying hello, swinging around the banister going up to his quarters and planting herself in front of his desk. He was, as he so often did at the moment, eating his breakfast while working and he paused, one fried egg halfway to his mouth. “Vaguely…” He put his fork down and laced his fingers on the table, fixing her with a deliberately blank stare. “Lasted about a year, if my memory serves me correctly.” 

She narrowed her eyes. “Hilarious. But no. Let me try again. Do you remember Danryc? Innol? Warrick?” 

“I do.” 

“And that’s just a few of them! A few of the tanned, beautiful farmhands that you had a habit of sneaking through your bedroom window when Mother was asleep, so you could grunt and sweat together to your heart’s desire.” 

He sighed, rubbing the crease between his eyebrows. “Yes, yes they were all beautiful but what’s your point?” 

“My point, Oliver is that not once in my entire life, have I ever, ever judged you for what you get up to in your personal affairs. Never! It’s not my business and what right do I have to have an opinion on what you do in your spare time, I’m not involved in it at all.” 

“Ok,” He sighed. “Aurelia-“ 

“No!” She was on a roll now, frustration bleeding into her voice. “How dare you change the way you act around me because I had sex with someone, someone who by the way is a shining example of what a good human being should be! Innol, if I recall correctly, stole a bag of coins from your dresser while you were wallowing in post-sex bliss. What in Andraste’s name makes you think you have the right to act like having sex makes me less of a valuable sister, or a valuable woman. You can wind your fucking neck back in Oliver, because I am having none of it.” 

She was out of breath from her rant, the air escaping from her lungs rather unsteadily. Oliver was watching her, expression unreadable before he held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “You’re right, of course you’re right. I’m sorry.”

He was certainly very accepting of this beating down, perhaps too accepting. Aurelia narrowed her eyes. “What, that’s it? You’re not about to shout back at me about how irresponsible I was being, or some other shit like that?” 

“Look, I’m not comfortable with it, and some people have not made…processing it any easier, nor given you the privacy you should have had with it. But you’re right, you always kept my secrets without judgement, and there’s no reason you should be treated any less. I’m sorry I’ve been so grumpy, that’s more a result of Dorian’s incessant jokes about it than anything else. I’ll sort my attitude out and try to get the others to stop, at least for a while. Does this earn me your forgiveness, sister?” 

Aurelia opened her mouth, then closed it again. That was certainly unexpected. She coughed. “Leadership suits you brother, you’re getting more democratic by the day.” 

He gave her a lopsided smile. “How kind of you. I’ve got a million things to do today Auri, but would you want to join me and Dorian for dinner together this evening? I’ll let you lightly stab him if he starts making unnecessary comments.” 

“How does one ‘lightly stab’ someone?” She laughed. “But thank you, I may do just that. Nine bells?” 

“Nine bells.” He agreed, attention already returning to the sheafs of paper on his table. She had just turned to leave when an envelope at the bottom of a large pile caught her eye. The handwriting… 

“Oliver?”

“Hm?”

“Who’s that letter from?”

He dragged his eyes to where her finger was pointing. The slightly off white, clearly expensive paper, on which large swooping letters in violet ink was just visible. Something was nagging at the frayed edges of her memory, something that felt like it could be either very bad, or very important. 

“Oh?” He pulled it out of the pile and threw it in the fire in one smooth movement, keeping the front hidden from view. “Just some marriage proposal from a widow in Orlais. You’d think after the fifth letter was ignored she’d get the message but apparently not.” 

“Ah, the struggles of being the most sought after man in Thedas.” She teased, before leaving him to a day of forms and reports. 

-

“But why?” Cole pressed. 

Aurelia yawned. “I don’t know sweetheart, it’s just what people say.” 

The younger boy frowned, dipping his head so his face was hidden under the wide brim of his hat. He was thinking hard. “But I still don’t understand. Why would you catch a bird in your hand in the first place? Why is it so important that there are two in the bush? What if there is no bush?” 

It would have been annoying if it wasn’t so endearing. Aurelia yawned again. Her dinner with Oliver and Dorian had filled her with good food, good wine and good company, and now she was ready to fall into bed. But while walking back to her room along the battlements, as had become her habit, she hadn’t been able to resist ducking into the top floor of the Herald’s Rest and spending a few moments with Cole. 

She laughed a little. “Those are all very good questions. Why don’t you ask Varric, he’ll probably be able to give you some good answers.” 

He cocked his head. “You’re tired and I’m keeping you awake. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright sweetheart, I’d gladly stay awake for you.” 

“Why do you call me sweetheart?” 

She smiled, and leant forwards to cup his cheek in her hand, making him look at her with his watery blue eyes. “Because you have the sweetest heart of anyone I’ve ever met, and you deserve only good things.” 

He didn’t seem to have a response for that, and so she left him sitting cross legged in his little corner of the world, always alert for potential hurt and upset.   
It was a cold night in Skyhold, and she was grateful for the hot mug of tea Oliver had shoved into her hands before they said goodnight. “Strong and sweet.” he had said “Just the way you like it.” 

The light’s in Cullen’s tower was still burning, obviously. Briefly, she considered doubling back and going the long way around to her room, but the air was starting to bite into her skin. She shifted her weight from one foot to another, considering for only a moment before pulling open the door and slipping inside. 

She was expecting (or perhaps hoping) that he would be in conference with some soldiers, in which case she’d be able to simply duck through quickly without being noticed. But obviously, because nothing could ever be simple, he was alone, scratching through reports by the light of multiple burning candles. His head jerked up as she entered, but it was a moment before he seemed to register that she wasn’t just another solider delivering a report. When he did, his eyes widened and he made a move to stand up from his desk. Quickly, she held up a hand to stop him. 

“Don’t mind me Commander, just passing through. I’m sorry to disturb you.” 

He gave a dry chuckle. It sounded a little hoarse and she wondered when he’d last drunk some water. “It’s no bother Lady…Aurelia. The only people I’ve seen today are soldiers handing me things for approval. A new face is certainly a welcome change.” 

It always gave Aurelia a pleasant curl of warmth in the stomach to know that someone was pleased to see her, even if it was a workaholic soldier with a penchant for crimson fur. “Do you ever stop working Commander? Surely those gloves you wear must be worn down to the last stiches what with how much you write in them.” She stepped a little further into the warmth of his office. She had never properly been in his rooms before and noticed for the first time the ladder ascending to a top floor, where his bed must be. Andraste, the man really did live his entire life in this building, she thought. No wonder he was desperate to escape to the battlements whenever he could spare a moment. 

There was a pause, although not an uncomfortable one. Aurelia felt this odd urge to make conversation, to drag out this gap in the Commander’s never ending work schedule. Maker’s breath, clearly she’d been spending too much time with Cole. 

“Will you be finished at any point before the sun rises?” She asked, only half joking. “Or do I have to ask my brother to order a curfew for your work day?” 

He smiled, the movement twisting the pale scar on his lip out of shape. Like his chuckle, it was rough but not unpleasant. “The work won’t last forever, and some of us prefer to work at night instead of drinking ourselves into oblivion.” 

His gaze met hers over the candlelight, and not for the first time that day she felt her mouth drop open. “Was that a joke Commander? I didn’t realise you were making jokes now!” As the words were leaving her mouth she realised they might be too familiar, might speak of a relationship of comfort that did not yet exist between her and the man seated in front of her. The idea that she may have crossed some boundary made her feel a little uncomfortable, which was new. 

But if he was put off by her tone, it didn’t show. The smile cracked into a full blown grin. “It has been known to happen, when the moon’s half full and the night is clear.” 

“Handsome and funny!” She laughed. “I should tell Oliver about this new side of you, see if he can’t redirect some of the marriage proposals he’s been getting from Orlesian noblewomen to you.” 

He looked simultaneously embarrassed and a little nauseous. “Maker, please no. I fear I’m inexperienced and have a lack of patience for The Great Game, much to Leliana’s displeasure.” 

“You and me both, Commander.” She replied. “You and me both. My mother always used to boast about all the wonderful things she’d seen and done while at Halamshiral, but to me it always seemed a shallow and awful thing to be involved in.” 

“Unfortunately, it seems taking part in the Game is unavoidable as we draw ever closer to the ball at the Winter Palace.” He sighed. “Perhaps we should hide away in a corner for the evening, try and avoid causing any offence by picking up the wrong spoon.” 

“The disgraceful hidden child of House Trevelyan and an ex-Templar?” Aurelia said. “I doubt we’ll have to hide in a cupboard, they’ll probably be avoiding us like the Blight.” 

“Thank the Maker for that.” 

The dry comment caused her to snort again and he grinned at her. He looked exhausted, purple bags carved under his eyes and lines of stress beginning to show around his eyes and mouth. But at the same time, he looked the most open she had ever seen him. Like his chuckle and scar, not unpleasant. Odd. 

There was another pause, and the Commander looked down at the reports still waiting for attention in front of him, the grin sliding off his face. “Well, as welcome as this interruption has been, if I want to finish before the sun does actually rise I probably should get back to work.” 

“Of course. I hope you get more than two hours of rest tonight.” Aurelia smiled, bowing her head at him, before striding across his floor towards the door. Once there she paused, looking at her hands for a moment before coming to a decision. Turning on her heel, she stepped back to his desk and carefully placed her mug of tea on the hard wood surface. He looked up, first at the mug then at her. She smiled. 

“It’s strong and sweet. It’ll either give you the energy to keep working or make you drowsy enough that you might actually go to bed, but either way it will help.” 

“Oh thank you, but I couldn’t.” He picked it up and made to return it to her but she placed her hand over the top and pushed it back down onto the surface. 

“You can and you will. I’m about to go to bed, after which I will get up and spend the day with my friends. You’re working pretty much non-stop for the rest of the night, after which you will get up and spend the day working. I’d say you’ve earned one cup of tea. I insist, Cullen.” 

His eyes were on hers, candlelight turning hazel into gold. “Well, if you insist…” Her palm was still resting on the top of the mug, the rising steam creating a circle of moisture on her palm. Cullen’s hand was still wrapped around it too and she could feel the very tip of his gloved thumb just barely brushing hers. Part of her mind was screaming to abort, abort Aurelia, get the hell out of there. But golden eyes were still on hers, and his lips were beginning to rise in a smile and she really needed to leave right now. Candlelight was dancing across cheekbones and stubble and by this point she should have been tucked up in bed, not standing in front of the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces admiring his appearance like a complete and utter moron. 

“I do, Commander.” What should have come out light and teasing instead sounded like her voice had been dragged over the stone walls built around them. That in itself was embarrassing enough to pull her out of the unexpected haze she was stuck in, and she coughed, pulling her hand back to clench behind her back.

“I do. No one makes tea quite like my brother and I consider it my duty that this secret talent be shared with the world.” She gave him her brightest grin, mainly to hide the heat in her cheeks, and backed away towards the door. “Good luck with your reports, I hope they’re at least interesting enough to be worth it.” 

“Thank you, Aurelia.” He replied, hand still on the mug, as she slipped out of the door and into the night, praying that the cold would cool the heat on her cheeks. 

A few metres away, tucked away in a corner of the attic room in the Herald’s Rest, Cole smiled.


	6. The Chess Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HoooooOOOOOLy shit, 60 kudos??????? 535 hits????? You guys. YOU GUYS. Ugh, I adore you all.  
> Anyways, I quite like this chapter, nothing much happens in terms of plot but it's still quite sweet. Thanks as always to pinklyrium for being a fab beta.
> 
>  
> 
> UPDATE: YOU GUYS I MADE IMAGES OF AURELIA ON AZELEA'S DOLLS. Holy shit she's come alive and I'm so excited! I put them all on my tumblr (@preparefortrevelyans, give us a cheeky follow if you're there) with an explanation for each, please please give them a look! Thank you!
> 
> https://preparefortrevelyans.tumblr.com/post/162353680603/ok-so-no-one-asked-or-probably-even-wants-this-but

“What does one wear to the Western Approach?”

“I wouldn’t recommend a jumper.” Oliver replied dryly. He was sat on one of the two chairs in her room, his hulking form making everything around him look like it belonged in a doll’s house. Aurelia shot him a look over her shoulder.

“Very funny. I’m going with the thinnest fabric I have, and if I’m cold or, Maker preserve me, still too hot, then it’s your fault and you deserve all the complaining that I’ll be doing.”

“A wise decision Auri.” Her brother could not have been more bored if she’d pulled out one of the dusty old tomes from the library and started reading it aloud to him.

“Why are you here?” She said and he raised his eyebrows.

“Don’t take that tone with me, I only came in because I heard Dorian’s voice. Then he left to play chess with Cullen and for some reason I’m still here.”

“My scintillating company, clearly.”

“You are ever so entertaining, my dear sister.”

She threw a shirt at him. “Don’t be a smart ass.”

About half of his face was obscured by her clothing, but she could tell he was grinning. “Are we all prepared to leave tomorrow?”

“Just about.” He removed the shirt from his head and tossed it back to her. “Varric got a letter from Hawke yesterday, she and Stroud are waiting for us near where the Grey Wardens have been spotted. We’ll find them, and spy on the Wardens to see what’s going on.”

“Who else is coming?”

“Varric and Dorian. I would have brought Blackwall in the hope it might have swayed some of the recruits, but I worry he’ll get too emotionally involved. If they are up to suspect activities it’s likely we’ll run into hostilities. People could get hurt and I don’t want him to have to kill his fellow Wardens.”

“You’re an old softie.”

He grinned. “It has been known.”

There was a knock on the open door and the two siblings turned to see an Inquisition messenger stood in the doorway. “Sister Leliana requires your presence Inquisitor, she has some more information about what her spies have discovered about the Western Approach.”

Oliver stood, the chair creaking rather worryingly as he did so. “Duty calls. Remember to go make sure your gear’s all up to date with Harritt. We meet at the stables at dawn tomorrow. Don’t go drinking tonight, I know what you’re like after a night on the mead and we can’t leave late tomorrow.”

“Such accusations...” She grinned, leaning against the doorframe as he exited.

“Maker,” He rolled his eyes, letting the messenger lead him away. “You’re starting to sound like Dorian.”

“If being more like Dorian gives me as much influence over you as he has, then sign me up.” She called after him and he waved at her.

The man in question was currently sat across the garden from her, sitting opposite the Commander and engaged in what looked to be a fierce game of chess. Sure, Dorian was arching his back, stretching and preening and looking for all the world like he could care less about what was happening in front of him, but there was no mistaking the impatient way he rolled his fingers across the arm of his chair. Cullen was less gifted at hiding his concentration, his hands were folded in front of him and two fingers were pressed against his lips as he glared down at the chess board. Aurelia grinned at the scene in front of her. She could almost smell the testosterone as these two men, equally powerful in their own way, fought their battle through the small ceramic pieces on the chequered board in front of them. No way was she getting involved in that.

She made her way through the rotunda, waving at Solas as she did passed. The main hall was full to bursting, Orlesian nobles had flocked to Skyhold almost as soon as the repairs were complete (how they’d known exactly when to turn up she had no idea, nobles were an intelligent and intimidating group of people) and by the time she ducked into the Undercroft, she decided she hated elbows. Harritt was his usual blunt self, but he did give her a shiny new set of daggers, wickedly sharp with a menacing green tint to the blades. She felt like it was her birthday and was struggling to contain her grin as she bade the blacksmith farewell.

Testing them out was a must, so she shoved her way through the mass of bodies in the main hall again, before finally breaking out into the fresh air and making her way down the steps to the training ring. As usual for the time of day, Bull and Krem were there. The qunari was involved in trying to knock the Tevinter on his ass and didn’t notice her straight away. It wasn’t until she leapt over the fence that Krem spotted her, blushed and lost his balance. Down the warrior went with Bull still standing victorious.

“Afternoon boys.” She grinned, walking across the ring to them. Krem smiled and then looked away, and Bull laughed at the sight of her spinning her daggers in her palm.

“Get some new toys, did you ‘Rel? They look nasty.”

“I’d hope so.” She winked at him. “Pure serpentstone.”

“Only the finest for the Inquisitor’s sister.”

Krem let his shield fall to the ground. “Chief, I’m gonna go check on the Chargers.”

Aurelia frowned at his quickly retreating figure. The man still wasn’t talking to her. Whether he had an issue with her personally, or just didn’t know how to handle the situation she didn’t know, but it was starting to grate on her. She liked him, and had missed his presence in the taverns in the evening.

“Talk to him.” Bull said quietly, picking up the shield his second in command had dropped.

“Why?” She felt defensive, although she wasn’t quite sure why. “He’s the one who’s got issues with what happened, not me.” 

He rolled an eye. “He’s not got issues with the fact that you two made the bed rock. Venak hol, he’s embarrassed!”

She snorted. “What’s he got to be embarrassed about?” 

“He had a thing for you ‘Rel. Has for some time, until pretty recently. Wouldn’t be surprised if his discomfort at what happened took some of the heat out of it.” The qunari chuckled. “The guy just needs some reassurance that you don’t think any less of him for what happened, you don’t think he took advantage of you or some shit like that.”

“That’s-“ 

“Bullshit I know. One, Krem couldn’t take advantage of a bunny rabbit if he tried. Two, I’d like to see someone try to take advantage of you. But still, speak to him. For all our sakes, because I’m sick of him scarpering anytime you come within a two mile radius of him.”

“Alright, alright!” Aurelia held up her hands. “If it’ll make him feel better, I’ll have a chat with the big lug. Maker, what is it with the men around here and their inability to process emotions in a logical way?”

“We’re all a little fucked up around here.” Bull grinned at her, before leaving to return the shields to the armoury.  
Krem was sat in his usual chair in the Herald’s Rest, leg’s crossed at the ankle and staring up at the ceiling. He was lost in thought and gave a start when he noticed Aurelia sliding onto a bench next to him.

“My lady!”

“Andraste’s ass Krem, really? You’ve seen me naked for crying out loud!”

The warrior’s face went bright red and she realised that probably wasn’t the best way to start the conversation. Still, she ploughed on.

“Krem, you have really got to relax. Everything’s fine, we’re fine, it’s all good!”  
He didn’t look reassured in the slightest and Aurelia groaned. “Look, I’m really not very good at this kind of thing. But it’s come to my attention that there are...some elements of what happened that might not be sitting well with you. But I don’t know that from you because you’re terrified of the bloody sight of me! Every time I come near you now you run away and I’m trying not to take it personally, but you’re my friend. Damn it Krem, I miss spending time with you. So what’s wrong?”

The man looked a little cowed. “I didn’t mean to make you think I didn’t want to spend time with you. But I just...we were drunk, and I shouldn’t have done it. I should have stopped, shouldn’t have taken advantage.”

She reached out and grabbed his shoulder. “You didn’t take advantage. I mean it. You need to stop beating yourself up about this, and telling yourself that you did something  
wrong. Yes, maybe we weren’t in the clearest frame of mind. But people do much worse, with much less alcohol in their system. I have no regrets about what happened.”

“None?”

“Well, I could have done without my brother acting like he was the victim in some tragic event that never happened. But between you and me? No way. Never.”

Krem sighed, and nodded. “Strangely, that does make me feel a little better.”

“There we go!” She grinned, and shook his shoulder a little. “Now come on, I need to practise with my new daggers and you’re the best one here to spar against.” 

“What about the Chief?”

“He won’t fight against me since I used his horns to swing out of the way of his punches.” She pouted and Krem began to laugh, looking more cheerful than she’d seen him in a  
while.

-

Some hours later, she was limping back to her room. Her new blades were fantastic, but Krem had thrown himself into sparring with more enthusiasm than she had been expecting. Clearly he was trying to make up for lost time, so she couldn’t really begrudge him, even if she did have a rather spectacular set of bruises blooming on the right side of her body.

What did make her eyebrows raise was the sight of Dorian and Cullen still sat playing chess. Evening was still a while off but she had been gone a good few hours. Andraste preserve her, were they playing the same bloody game? Dorian noticed her entrance into the garden and waved her over.

“...me Commander? I didn’t think you had it in you?” She heard him say as she approached.

“Why do I even-“ Cullen looked up and saw her at that point. “Au-Lady Trevelyan!” He made a move to stand up. She was about to tell him to calm down when Dorian cut in.

“Leaving, are you?” He flashed the Commander one of his most charming grins. “Does this mean win?”

Cullen looked at her and she laughed. “I’m not your boss Commander, and quite frankly it’s nice to see you out of your office for longer than two minutes. Please, feel free to kick his ass, that might knock the smile off his face for an hour or so.”

The mage looked affronted. “How dare you suggest doing anything with my arse that doesn’t include showering it with love and affection.”

“Neither of us are Oliver.” She pointed out, then groaned. “I made myself feel nauseous.”

Cullen chuckled. Every time she heard it, she liked it a little more. “Where were we?”

Dorian crossed his legs. “You’re going to have to come to terms with my inevitable victory. You’ll feel much better.”

“Really? Because I just won, and I feel fine.” Cullen moved a piece and leaned back in his chair, a smirk on his face and a touch of arrogance in his voice. Aurelia raised an eyebrow. She had seen the Commander stressed, she had seen him tired. But she had never seen him confident, not in this way. The sight was...well. It was interesting.

The other man was looking at the board, then he raised his hands and grinned. “Don’t get smug. There will be no living with you.”  
He left in a swirl of undented confidence, leaving an empty chair behind him. There was a moment of comfortable silence before Aurelia spoke.

“So, the workaholic Commander does occasionally take a break from work? Did you come willingly or did Dorian drag you out here?”

He smiled at her. “Chess is a useful way of practicing tactics on a battlefield where you cannot predict your opponent’s moves unless you’re highly skilled. A lot of it is very helpful in my role as Commander.”

She didn’t doubt the truth of his words, but there was a glint in his tawny eyes and a curl to his lips that belied how dull his words were. A grin was spreading across her face, even as she rolled her eyes.

“Pull the other one, Commander.”

“Would you care for a game?” He offered. “I find myself reluctant to return to my office at the moment.”

“Of course.” She replied, taking the chair Dorian had just vacated. “Your office has one tiny window and three doors through which soldiers are constantly coming and going with  
work. It’s no surprise you’re climbing the walls.”

He was rearranging the pieces on the board, and she watched his gloved hands pick up individual pieces and place them in their starting positions. “I would have thought you’d be glad to have a solider always there. Or is it mercenaries you prefer?”

“Andraste’s ass!” She was laughing now, and so was he, bringing up one knuckle to hide the grin on his face. “Here I thought it was Varric, Dorian and Sera that were the biggest gossips in the inner circle. I’m going to tell everyone about this side of you, Cullen.”

“Maker, no.” He groaned. “I dread to think of Sera’s reaction. Or Josephine and Leliana’s. I already face too many jokes at my expense in the War Room, I’d rather you didn’t add another arrow to that particular bow.”

“What jokes could they possibly make about you?” Aurelia teased.

“My armour is the most recent topic of discussion.” Cullen replied, sounding a little grumpy. “Apparently it’s a little flashy by Leliana’s standards, and she’s taken to wondering aloud if I’m trying to compensate for something.”

She snorted. “Oh no! Well, if it will put your mind at ease, I think it suits you.”

There was a small pause. It had been happening more and more often over the past week or so. They were running into each other more often around Skyhold, and often stopped to converse. Aurelia had also fallen into the recent habit of bringing him sweet tea every night on her way to bed. She didn’t know if he liked it, or even drank it, but he hadn’t refused it or turned her away yet. If she stopped to think about it, she might have been a little concerned about how easy it had been to incorporate this one act into her day, and that it was slightly worrying that as every evening arrived, she found herself looking forward to their conversations a little more. After they separated, she knew, she knew that it was because deep down she had always been someone that liked people to like her, and the slowly budding but genuine friendship between them brought her a lot of joy. But when they sat across from each other for a time at night in his office (for Cullen had started leaving a chair on the other side of his desk, directly across from him for her to sit when she inevitably stuck her head around the door), talking about everything and nothing, it was hard not to get caught up in the moment. Then one of them would make a comment, that in daylight with a clear head would seem perfectly innocent. But at night, with the heavy smell of the candles and sweet tea and blonde hair over golden eyes and a gentle smile, the words buried themselves in her body, made her heart miss a beat and a flush spread over her face.

Three nights ago for example. They’d been talking about his time in Kirkwall, Aurelia being curious about Hawke was like.

“Emily Hawke?” Cullen had raised an eyebrow. “She was pleasant enough, always willing to help. Shehad a sharp tongue though, always ready with a joke, which aggravated the Knight Commander no end. She and her wife were always attached at the hip too, if I remember correctly?”

Aurelia had coughed on her mouthful of sweet tea. “The Champion was married?”

“Still is. A Rivaini pirate called Isabela. The two of them never knew how to take anything seriously, but they were vicious with daggers.”

“The Champion of Kirkwall is married to a pirate captain...there’s something about that that’s so impressive.”

The conversation had turned towards him, and without really thinking Aurelia had asked him if he’d left anyone behind in the Free Marches. He hadn’t taking her meaning at first.

“I’m talking about romance Commander, surely you’ve heard of it.” She’d teased him, and he’d rolled his eyes. “Did no one special catch your interest?”

“Not in Kirkwall.”

A perfectly reasonable response. She’d asked him if he’d been involved with anyone in Kirkwall and he’d answered. He wasn’t saying he was with, or not with, anyone now, or was even remotely interested in looking. Why then, did a warm lick of something she couldn’t name wrap itself around her heart for the briefest fraction of a second before disappearing  
into the ether.

The conversation had continued on, much like it ever did, but every so often her memory would replay the words in her head and she’d feel the brief warmth again, comforting and exciting at the same time.

Slowly but surely, she could feel the two of them veering closer and closer to something more than the tentative friendship they shared right now. Whether that was simply a closer friendship or something...more, Aurelia wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure she wanted to think too much about it either. Too many friendships had been ruined by someone over-  
analysing what was going on. Cullen was a good man, with good intentions and she respected him, she didn’t want to embarrass them and ruin their relationship.

But his eyes...

That he was a handsome man was common knowledge throughout Skyhold. She didn’t know anyone who lived there who didn’t think so. About half of the serving girls were in love with him, and so were most of the stable boys. But he wasn’t just handsome, he was beautiful. One of the most beautiful humans Aurelia had ever seen, and her mother had spent her life trying to make sure her estate was always filled with beautiful people. But Cullen surpassed them all in each and every way. Not just because of his looks, wonderful though they were. It was the way his soul shone through his eyes and his smile, the way he laughed when she was deliberately being overdramatic to try and cheer him up after a hard day, the way his shoulders rolled when he set aside the last report for the day and he visibly relaxed, the way he had so easily welcomed her into his office at night when really he should  
be relaxing.

Maker, how far gone was she? Inwardly, she scoffed at herself. This was why it was bad to overthink things. She really needed to just hit something and turn these pointless thoughts into something productive. The Western Approach would sort her out, for certain.

The chess game progressed rather quickly. Both of them were talented at it, Cullen for want of beating his sister when he was younger and Aurelia because there wasn’t much else to do in her room but practice at everything that she could find. Any attempts to be subtle were thrown out of the window and it turned into all out friendly fire, with laughs and jokes being thrown anytime a piece was claimed.

“Have you written back to your sister yet?”

“I will, at some point.”

“She’s going to kill you no matter how long it takes you to reply to her letter. You may as well accept your death and get it over with.”

“Will you come to my funeral?”

“It depends on how soon you reply.”

“That seems a touch mean.”

“That’s just who I am Cullen, you knew this about me.”

She was winning, she could see it. Cullen, being the smart man that he was, had noticed before she had and was changing his tactics.

“How are you feeling about going to the Western Approach?”

“Nervous, if truth be told. This is big, whatever’s going on with the Wardens has got Oliver really concerned, which means the rest of us should be worried. I don’t want to let  
anyone down.”

“I find it hard to imagine a world where that would be possible.”

“You’re too kind.”

“Not if you ask my soldiers.”

“To be fair, you do make the new recruits get up and train before dawn their first month of being here. That’s not likely to make you very popular.”

“They’re here to fight, not lazily bask in the Inquisition’s glory.”

“And you’re their Commander, not their big brother. Maybe their approval isn’t something you should be concerned with getting.”

“I’m not, I don’t think.”

“You have a group of people around you that like you just fine, that’s all that matters.”

Eventually, Cullen sighed and tipped his queen over. “I believe this one is yours. Well done.”

“Considering I only ever played against Oliver or the twins, who I’m convinced let me win, that really is amazing.”

He grinned. “We’ll have to try again sometime.”

“I think I’ll stick to dropping off tea at your office in the evening, I’d rather just take my victory and depart while I still have my dignity.” Aurelia laughed.

“Ah, but you’re leaving for who knows how long, how will I get my sweet tea and company?”

“I’m sure Sera will quite happily keep you company.” She snorted as Cullen recoiled slightly. “I’ll ask the kitchen to send you up a cup every evening if you would like?”

He shrugged. “If you would like. I fear it’s the company I will miss the most however.”

Their eyes met over the chessboard. They were teetering on the edge of their friendship, so close to making it something a little closer, a little deeper than what they shared currently. A request hung, unspoken, in the air between them that would take them over that border, if only one of them would take the first step. She could feel the heat wrapping around her heart again, pushing the words she wasn’t sure she should say out of her mouth.

“Will you write to me?”

“W-What?” He stuttered over the word, looking as surprised as she felt that she’d actually asked.

“For updates! I need to know that you’re drinking your tea, it’s a proven method of making sure that you have the energy to get all your work done. Can’t have the Commander of the Inquisition falling asleep at his desk.” Aurelia could feel herself stammering a little, clutching at straws to try and gain some dignity back. What in Andraste’s name had she just done? Clearly she’d misjudged the entire situation and now she just needed to crawl into a hole and die. Was this how Krem had felt after the two of them had woken up together? If so she really needed to give the man a hug.

“O-of course I will!” He was still stuttering, still looking a little surprised but starting to smile. “Sweet tea is a crucial part of anyone’s work day.”

“Exactly.” She nodded, perhaps a little too fervently. “Good. Well. I should probably finish packing.”

“Yes. Best of luck on your journey Aurelia. I look forward to your safe return.”

He made a move forward, perhaps to touch her, to shake her hand, she didn’t know. Either way, she was up and out of her chair before he’d moved, already backing away.

“Yes. Yes. I’ll see you soon, Cullen.”

“Goodbye Aurelia.”

She left him there at the chess table, scurrying away with burning ears and the sound of his voice saying her name resounding in her head.


	7. The Western Approach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is stupidly long, and I blame my inability to stop writing and set out clear boundaries for myself. Shoutout as always to pinklyrium, you're an absolute real one.
> 
> Thank you guys always always always for the hits and the kudos and the bookmarks and the comments, it makes me so happy. I don't wanna rush our relationship but screw it, ily.
> 
> As always, you can follow me on tumblr @preparefortrevelyans, message me, let's be pals. I want it. ALSO on my tumblr I recently posted a series of photos from Azelea's Dolls that show a) what Aurelia looks like and b) all the different clothes she wears. If you're interested in that kinda stuff then feel free to check it out!!

When Dorian turned up to the stables wearing some ridiculous cloth and rope combination, Aurelia and Varric had laughed themselves silly at the amount of skin he was showing.

“I get that you’re a mage and being able to cast a barrier is a big part of that, but you’re really cutting it close here.” The dwarf had chuckled as they’d set off.

“It’s like you’re asking them to wound you.” Aurelia had added. Dorian had ignored them heroically, confident in the fact that he looked striking, because of course he did.

The good natured teasing had continued for most of the journey. But about two-thirds of the way there, after Aurelia had to rip a small square out of the soft grey fabric of her cloak (long since taken off) to dab at her forehead with and Varric had shrugged off his thick outer coat, they started to realise that perhaps the mage had been onto something.

“A little hot, are we?” Dorian could not have sounded more smug if he tried. The sun was gleaming off his skin and he looked like some kind of sand god. Aurelia hated him. Long, thick hair was all well and good when it was cold but when you were in the middle of a damn desert it did feel a little like you were being slowly suffocated by a large Mabari. Oliver was down to his shirtsleeves, tree trunk arms already turning brown under the sun. Damn him for being the only one of the Trevelyans that didn’t burn.

By the time they reached the Inquisition camp, Varric was liberally doused in sweat and Aurelia had burnt about a fifth of her body. She winced as she clambered off her horse. “That’s going to sting tomorrow.”

Oliver was standing a few feet away, talking to Scout Harding who seemed to be giving him the lowdown on where exactly they were. The sun was relentlessly beating down, and she really needed to get under some shade, and stay there. For the foreseeable future.

“Dispatch for you ma’am.”

It took her a moment to realise the soldier was talking to her. “Oh…thank you.”

A letter was placed in her hand. She’d know the small, tightly grouped handwriting anywhere, she’d watched him sign hundreds of reports with it. He must have sent this the day that they left Skyhold for it to have been there when they arrived.

“A love letter for you, Frizz?” Varric asked, voice muffled due to the fact that from the waist upwards he was lying face down inside his tent.

She tried to snort. “Hardly.”

Dorian waved his hand and suddenly a fire popped out of the ground, but instead of heat it was giving off waves so cold they were almost icy. The noise that came out of her mouth was almost sexual in nature but she couldn’t bring herself to care as she flung herself down in front of it, Varric and Dorian joining her a second later.

“Nice trick.” She sighed. The mage shrugged.

“A trifle. Summers in Minrathous can be somewhat trying and they teach this to all young mages.”

“Sparkler you’re a gift to this company.” Varric replied, lifting up his arms so cool air could sweep through his shirt to his armpits.

“I know, I know. But more importantly than the gift of my presence…isn’t that our dear Commander’s handwriting?” Dorian said, voice going slightly shrill with excitement. Aurelia shoved the letter into her shirt, feeling the paper crinkle against the top of her breast.

“None of your business.”

“That’s a little defensive of you Frizz.” She could hear the grin in Varric’s voice and glared at him. “So what is it, declaration of love?”

“A smutty letter?” Dorian chimed in.

“Poetry?” Aurelia gave them both a rude hand gesture and Dorian scoffed.

“Very mature.”

“If you children are quite finished?” Oliver called. “Hawke left a message for us, we’re meeting her and Stroud by the ruins tomorrow morning. But for now I want to cover some ground, set up some camps, see what’s out here. We don’t need any surprises tomorrow. Come on.”

Dorian waved his hand again and the fire disappeared into thin air. Aurelia and Varric weren’t the only ones who groaned in displeasure, a couple of soldiers sighed a little at the loss of cool air.

“Put the letter in your tent.” Varric murmured to her as they clambered to their feet. “Either the sweat will make the ink run, or your esteemed brother will see it and that’ll lead to all sorts of questions neither you or your dear Commander want to answer.”

“I don’t know what you think’s going on Varric, but I’ll tell you right now, it’s nothing.” She retorted. But she slipped the letter under her bedroll anyway.

-

Hours later, streaked in dust, dirt and all sorts of demon blood and phlegm, the four of them finally stepped back into camp. The burning fire was the only light visible for miles around apart from the stars, and of course, because they were in the desert at night, it was freezing. Aurelia was, to put it lightly, fucking miserable. Having to quickly wash down with a cloth in the ice cold stream the camp was next to in the near darkness didn’t improve her mood, but it was too dangerous to risk stripping down and getting fully clean. It probably wasn’t worth freezing her extremities off in any case.

By the time she returned to the fire Varric had disappeared inside his tent. The soldiers on patrol had slipped thick wool linings into their armour and Dorian and Oliver were sat next to the fire, the former sat in between her brother’s legs while the latter gently slipped a woollen blanket over the Tevinter’s shoulders. She bid the two of them goodnight and slipped into her tent, grateful to be (somewhat) alone for the first time since leaving Skyhold. She’d be lying if she said the letter hadn’t been pretty much constantly on her mind since they left camp, but she made herself go through the motions of preparing for bed. Dressing down to her usual shift would leave her freezing now but too hot in the morning. With an exhausted sigh, she decided to just sleep in her day clothes. She’d regret it in a few hours but right now she was too tired and cold to care.

It was only when she was lying on her back staring up at the expanse of canvas that she let her hands slip under the bedroll and pull out the crumpled envelope. The light of the fire illuminated just enough in her tent to enable her to make out the words. Her name on the front, in his handwriting. His handwriting was messy, but neat at the same time. He never rushed over reports, signatures or letters but his writing always made it look like he’d scrawled some words down while in the middle of a siege. She smiled at a memory from a few weeks back, when she’d mercilessly teased him for his scribble. She’d gone on for so long until he’d demanded she write on a scrap of paper, grumbling once he saw the elegant cursive. Her mother may not have taught her much, but the ability to write well and make it look beautiful was a must in the Trevelyan household.

Aurelia realised she was a little nervous to open it. Why, she had no idea. It’s wasn’t like the two of them had never spoken, weren’t friends. Sending a letter to a friend while they were away was a perfectly normal thing to do. She was overthinking this. Overthinking was bad. Before she could talk herself out of reading the damn thing, she ripped the envelope and pulled out the sheet of paper within.

_Aurelia Trevelyan,_

_How goes things in the Western Approach? I trust all is progressing smoothly and everyone in the group is in good health, yourself included. Please let me know should your brother require any information or missions started back here, it is in all of our best interests to see work in the Approach finished as soon as possible. I’m sure you continue to be as healthy and bright as ever._

_…Maker’s Breath that was terrible, wasn’t it? Forgive me, I haven’t written a letter more personal than a report for a very long time. I’m not quite sure what to say. Perhaps I should imagine I’m sitting in my office in the evening, while you sit opposite me and talk?_

_No, I fear that wouldn’t work as much of our talks comprise of you insulting me. In the most pleasant way, as friends do, as you constantly reassure me._

_I must admit, the castle is a little quieter without you. All. Without you all. Most of the ego in the castle seems to have disappeared, although I’m sure Dorian and Varric took it with them._

_I rather enjoy writing to you, it gives me the chance to throw some insults your way and not face any rebuttals._

_I hope all goes well in the Approach. For some reason I find it hard to imagine you and Varric doing well under a blazing hot sun. Dorian, I suppose would do better but he did seem more appropriately dressed when I saw you leave Skyhold. Leather and a cloak to the Western Approach, Aurelia? I thought you were smart._

_I’m sure your brother tells you this enough, but try your best to stay safe and not throw yourself into the path of demons as you so often like to do. The Approach is a part of Thedas our initial solders struggled to settle in, and I would have preferred knowing what you were all being sent off to face. In regards to both the Wardens and the wildlife._

_Besides, it took a lot of effort to bring the chair up to my office and having to remove it now would be an annoyance. Although I fear I may have to if you do not return soon, a soldier came in for a reprimand this afternoon and assumed the chair was for him, sitting in it without permission. No matter, I’m sure two weeks cleaning duties of all equipment and armour shall remind him of what it means to have superiors._

_I’m sure we shall see each other soon,_

_Cullen Rutherford._

Aurelia wasn’t sure who was the larger idiot, Cullen for his appalling start to the letter, or herself for finding it so endearing. Her heart felt quite light in her chest, and she realised she had a large grin on her face.

“By the Maker, Aurelia,” She whispered to herself. “You’re nearly thirty years old. You should be able to handle receiving a letter from a friend, even if said friend is almost disarmingly handsome and sweet.”

This was terrible. But still, she wasn’t quite disgusted enough to stop herself from rolling over, pulling a graphite stick and a sheet of paper out of her bag (packed in Skyhold, just in case), leaning on her pack and penning a reply. When she finished, she tucked both letters under her bedroll, rolled over and willed herself to fall asleep. She’d rather have died than admit that she was tracing over the words he wrote in her mind to help her drift off.

As predicted, sleeping in her day clothes was an awful decision. She woke not long after the sun rose and for a brief, panicked second, wondered if she’d wet the bed. But no, it was just sweat. Quickly, ignoring the rather pungent smell of bodies that had started to float around the camp, she darted to the stream, stripped off and threw herself in face first. It was absolute bliss but there was no time to enjoy it as she had no desire to be caught naked by anyone in the camp.

Like she suspected, she only had a couple of minutes to wash and redress before everyone else started moving about. She knew Varric was no morning person but the dwarf had a particularly foul look on his face as he sat cleaning sand out of Bianca. Dorian, obviously, was perfectly well groomed, but Oliver’s hair made him look remarkably like a Druffalo. Before anyone could see or make any kind of comment, she slipped into her tent on the pretence of grabbing her pack, pulled out her letter and pushed it into the pile of reports on the requisition desk that were due to be taken back to Skyhold by ravens later that day. Turning away, she caught Varric’s eye. He winked at her and grinned.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Frizz.” He chuckled as Oliver beckoned them over.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

_Cullen,_

_You’re right, that was terrible. Perhaps you’d be better at this if you replied to one of your sister’s letters now and again? Maker, I’m nagging you and it makes me feel like Oliver._

_Please excuse me while I drown myself._

_Things are terrible here. For some reason the fact that the Western Approach is one massive expanse of sand and cliffs and heat didn’t register in my mind? I have no explanation for why I wasn’t prepared, apart from the fact that I come from the Free Marches where it is perpetually autumn. Thankfully I’m not alone, Varric’s wilting in this heat as much as I am. Dorian of course, is handling it beautifully and Oliver is so stoic he could be on fire and he’d have the same expression on his face._

_I miss moderate temperatures. And baths. We haven’t even been here one day and I’m pining for everything, I thought I was made of sterner stuff than this! Call me posh but rubbing yourself with a cloth dipped in ice water is just a sub-par way to be cleaning yourself._

_I’m moaning too much I know, honestly I’m just happy to be here. Before you ask, I had one fit on the way here and it was over in seconds. Before you apologise for asking, don’t. I don’t mind. Honestly it was rather amusing, I fell off my horse. I realise that’s probably not funny to anyone except me, but I likely just have an incredibly twisted sense of humour._

_I resent your comments about my insults, it’s hardly my fault if you leave yourself open to teasing. Chivalry and a gentleman-like behaviour won’t help you there, even if it does serve you so well in other aspects of your life._

_Of course the castle is quieter, I imagine the Herald’s Rest is also saving a lot of money on wine now that Dorian’s not there. Were you watching as we left that morning?! You should have come down and said goodbye, and helped me and Varric tease Dorian. He may have been dressed more appropriately than the rest of us but he looked like a trussed up ham._

_I’ll try to stay out of the way of any demons, but they’re just so damned irresistible! No, but in all seriousness, I worked so hard to get here, I won’t give any less than my best. Would you do anything else?_

_That poor soldier. Was it Jim? No Jim’s too professional to do something like that. Whoever it was, they definitely deserved it. That chair is mine and mine alone._

_We’re off to meet Hawke and Stroud tomorrow. I confess I am a little concerned about what we might find. Oliver is becoming more and more serious by the minute, which worries me. It’s odd, seeing him in the role of Inquisitor, leader of the Inquisition. It’s like my brother disappears and he’s someone I don’t recognise. It’s why I don’t watch him judge anyone in Skyhold, I like my brother as he is. It’s a childish wish I know, I probably just need to adjust to the fact that Oliver Trevelyan is no longer just my big brother._

_That got very melancholy! I apologise, we’ve been traipsing around the desert all day and I’m just about dead on my feet._

_You definitely shall see me soon! Have you been drinking your sweet tea?_

_Aurelia._

-

Emily Hawke turned out to be delight wrapped up in brown hair and beautiful eyes. Cheerful, with an almost evil sense of humour, it was easy to see why she and Varric were so close. Stroud was far less interesting. Aside from his incredible moustache, he was serious to a fault and incredibly boring. Still, he seemed a good man. But the encounter with the Wardens had been…less than stellar.

“Of course it's blood magic. When is it not blood magic?" Hawke had whispered, bent so low to the ground she looked like some kind of lizard. Aurelia had thought she was a pretty decent rogue but she was nothing on the other woman. The Western Approach was a difficult location to fight in for her, as she prided herself on her stealth. Out here, where the only thing that wasn’t sand was the occasional cliff that couldn’t be scaled, she was relying on speed and strength a little more than she was comfortable with. Not being able to use stealth was starting to annoy her, but Hawke was as adaptable as she was striking, effortlessly disappearing within the sandstorms and behind the crumbling ruins.

She'd expected them to have to struggle to infiltrate the weird, open temple where all the Grey Wardens were gathered. Especially, as she realised when they carefully approached the entrance, because there were sodding demons there. Alarmingly quiet and well behaved demons…looking at the scene made her skin start to prickle.

“Olly, I don’t like this.” She said quietly as they approached the group. Her brother didn’t reply, instead he straightened and began striding across the sand.

“Oh of course, let’s just walk right in. That’s sensible. Won’t lead to any hostile confrontation I’m sure.” Aurelia said, falling into step beside him. Behind her, Varric snorted.

As expected, it didn’t go well. It turned out the one responsible (the sadistic and slimy looking Lord Erimond) actually served Corypheus, making him the one responsible for basically everything that was shit at the moment. That shouldn’t have been a surprise at all, really, but it still managed to piss Aurelia off to what some might say was a rather dramatic extent.

“It was a good decision not to bring Blackwall.” Aurelia said after the fighting was over, trying to slow her breathing. Dead Wardens were littered at their feet, along with the remains of demons that used to be their brothers and friends. These poor, stupid men and women that got so scared about the Calling that blood magic became a reasonable option. What was the old saying? Extreme times breed extreme attitudes? “He would not have taken this well.”

Erimond had escaped, but they knew where to find him. Adamant Fortress, with Clarel and a bunch of other Wardens that were about to find themselves knee-deep in shit. Oliver managed to successfully break up an argument between Hawke and Stroud, with a diplomatic attitude Aurelia couldn’t help but admire. She knew her brother agreed with Hawke, he’d always believed that thought and willpower was enough to see you through anything. But being at the mercy of something you couldn’t control and didn’t know when it would appear, something that could mean the end of all you knew? Aurelia could relate a little to the extreme fear the Wardens must be feeling.

Nothing could be decided yet, without the advisors and the war table, but they all knew that Adamant was next and from the furrow in her brother’s forehead, Aurelia assumed it was going to be one hell of a campaign. It wasn’t surprising therefore, when Oliver decided that they would stay in the Approach for another month or so, try and clear everything up as best they could. He claimed it was so he wouldn’t have to drag any other friends that would just whinge about the heat out there for the foreseeable future, but she knew better. Her brother might swear by the power of willpower but he was also one of the biggest procrastinators she had ever known. He was probably as keen to avoid having to attack Adamant and put everyone’s life at risk as she was keen to leave the desert. But she bit her tongue, Maker knows that he had some horrible things in store for him, the very least she could do was what he brought her along for without complaining.

Hawke decided to join them at camp for the night, Stroud choosing instead to return immediately to Skyhold. They were a merry bunch round the fire that evening, Dorian creating small globes of light that hung in mid-air to further illuminate the camp. Aurelia could have listened to Hawke and Varric talk for hours, reminiscing about their years in Kirkwall.

“The look on Isabela’s face when Jethann offered you sex.” Varric chuckled into his plate of food. “I’ll never forget the absolute glee.”

Emily had a wicked grin on her face. “She never cared if a man tried it on, we all knew she’d have liked to join in. It was only if a woman showed interest that she really got pissed off. It’s weird, but I love her for it.”

Aurelia was a little entranced. “When did you first know you wanted…you know…it to be just you and her? Forever.”

Oliver and Dorian groaned. Considering they were the only two people in camp that were actually a couple, the two were always very (publicly) averse to romance. “My sister claims to be all spiky attitude and witty comebacks but deep down she’s an old romantic.” Oliver grinned, reaching across to try and ruffle her hair, which she of course easily dodged and sent a well-aimed kick to his ankle in response.

Hawke ignored the boys and sat forward on her knees, catching Aurelia’s eye and grinning at her. “Maker, I could go on for hours if Varric would let me.”

“Which he won’t.” The dwarf added.

“Well first of all, she’s a goddess come to life. I mean, it’s impossible to describe how beautiful she is.”

“There’s several books of poetry some guy in Kirkwall published a few years back giving it a good go if you’re really interested.”

“Yes, thank you Varric. But aside from that,” Hawke shrugged. “Being with her is just easy. I never had to try, or watch my words from the very start. Talking to her was so comfortable, I’d have told her my life story and all my deepest hopes and fears the first time we met if there’d been chance. It was like finding a bit of home in someone, a bit of home you never even realised you were missing. It can be sexual, believe me it can be sexual. But it’s also like friendship, a deeper, more vulnerable and yet more satisfying friendship than you ever thought you deserved. It’s fucking terrifying but if you can charge past the fear, it’s so worth it.”

The camp had grown quiet as she spoke. Aurelia didn’t quite know what to say. Hawke was staring into the fire, mind clearly somewhere else. Varric’s thumb brushed against Bianca before he coughed and took a large swig of his drink, breaking the small spell Hawke had wound around them all. Out of the corner of her eye, Aurelia saw Oliver rest his head on Dorian’s shoulder. She was hit with a sudden surprising pang of loneliness as she realised she was the only one there that didn’t have anyone.

Well, that was nothing new and had never bothered her before. She was just getting lost in Hawke’s words, clearly.

Before long, Oliver and Dorian excused themselves and disappeared into their tent. Varric and Hawke’s conversation turned nostalgic, and Aurelia began to feel a little out of place. It was clear that she shouldn’t be there and so she left them to it.

The rogue’s words swam around her head as she laid back and tried to get to sleep. The way Hawke had spoken made it all sound so easy. Which, Aurelia supposed, was the entire point. It sounded rather nice. Having someone like that in your life had always seemed like something that was never going to happen to her. Growing up she’d always thought she’d spend her life inside the estate. Her mother had always made it very clear that marriage was not something that would ever happen for her, they had no way of knowing if her condition would be passed onto next of kin and it’s not like any noble would ever want her anyway.

Aurelia was not an idiot, she knew that in the life she’d grown up in marriage was never for love, but it would still be her only chance of anything remotely like a romantic relationship. She’d had flings with the servants, all the Trevelyan children had, but she did it more to piss of her mother than anything else. But now…she had all these options. It felt odd and more than a little scary.

Suddenly, Cullen’s face swam into her mind’s eye. It would be easy to be in a relationship with him, she mused. He would be fun, but sweet at the same time.

But the reality of where she was and what she was doing was a massive slap in the face. She needed to get herself under control. She was veering dangerously close to becoming one of the maidservants that stumbled and almost dropped their trays when Cullen walked past. Yes, he was attractive. Extremely attractive. Attractive to the point where it ached a little sometimes. He was also dedicated, so passionate about what he was did, clever, brave and exactly like the stupid heroes in the fairytale books her father used to send her when she was a child. She’d always hated them. If you were being saved by a knight in shining armour, armour that wasn’t dented, rusted or showed any signs of being used, then you were likely being saved by a pretty terrible knight with no experience. How is it that now she found herself acting like such an arse about someone exactly like that?

She should have asked Oliver to bring Bull along. Doing a few rounds with him would have cleared her head.

Would she ever tell Cullen about these weird feelings? Definitely not, there was no way he felt the same way about her, and she wasn’t about to make things awkward. He’d feel awkward, she’d feel awkward and setting Skyhold on fire would be a preferable option. It wasn’t worth ruining the friendship.

Aurelia didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she woke with the sun and heat glaring through the tent flaps. She groaned and Oliver responded from outside the tent.

“Good, you’re awake. Scout Harding’s spotted Venatori going in and out of that massive structure to the north. If we set off now we should be able to take them by surprise. Come on.”

It was hard to remember exactly why she’d been so desperate to get out and explore at this precise moment in time.

-

Time dragged in the Approach. Oliver reassured her that they were making excellent progress but it really didn’t feel like it.

There were only two positives as far as she could tell. They’d moved into the camp at Lost Spring Canyon, which was a massive structure that had plenty of indoors and shade and, praise Andraste, a small room with a bath. Sure the water was freezing and there was no soap but it got rid of the sand so she was happy.

Secondly, she had a slowly growing pile of letters from Cullen under her bedroll. They were talking about everything and anything, and they were pretty much the only thing keeping her sane. She loved Oliver, Dorian and Varric like family but she’d been with them day in and day out for over a month and was about ready to kill them all. Having someone else to talk to was a lifeline.

_Aurelia,_

_Just stay calm. You may want to murder him but he is still the Inquisitor. I’d probably have to arrest you for killing Thedas’ last hope, and that would be a shame._

_I’m glad to hear that your burn has receded slightly. I’d like to thank you for the rather graphic description of the burn on your shoulders, but to be honest it left a rather bitter taste in my mouth._

_Your brother’s reports tell me that you’re close to finishing up in the Approach, you must be excited to return._

_Things are still fine here, although I think your missing presence is starting to be felt quite sharply. Stroud and Hawke are pleasant enough, but they’re not Aurelia Trevelyan and Varric Tethras in the Herald’s Rest._

_The boy, Cole, misses you a lot I think. I keep smelling a vaguely lemony scent around our section of the battlements. Josephine tells me you use something similar on your hair, I thought I had recognised it. Several bottles have apparently gone missing from the storeroom, perhaps he’s doing it to comfort himself? I must admit it does remind me of our nightly conversations when I smell it._

_~~I am~~ I am looking forwards to them starting again. It’s rather too much effort to fetch sweet tea in the kitchen, and I enjoyed having it brought to me. _

_I know I put this in every letter, but stay safe. You’ve been remarkably fortunate so far, I would hate for any of you to be injured so far away from Skyhold._

_Best,_

_Cullen._

 

_Cullen,_

_I defy anyone to spend a month solid with my brother and not contemplate murder. Apart from Dorian perhaps, but he gets this doe eyed look whenever Oliver speaks. Honestly, I think he’d be disgusted with himself if he knew how he was acting._

_Well, who else was I supposed to tell? Oliver and Dorian always look slightly disgusted when I bring it up and Dorian refuses to heal them ever since I filled his bedroll with sand (it was worth it). It’s not worth telling Varric, his are even worse than mine and he waits for any opportunity to show them off._

_My brother’s reports tell you correctly. I don’t want to be dramatic but I might well start crying as we ride through the gates. But in all honesty, it’s the wind I miss the most. You know what I mean, the one that comes through Skyhold as evening sets in. There’s no wind here, and I hate it._

_Oh Cole. Varric’s whittled him a little wooden figure of a phoenix as a gift for when we return, if I didn’t know better I’d suspect he thought of himself as the boy’s father. Which is sweet, if a little odd. Stealing my hair oil does seem like something he’d do, he better not have used them all up on scenting the battlements!_

_I hope the smell hasn’t been distracting, or making your headaches worse. I know you’re deliberately not telling me what’s causing them, but I’ll get it out of you one way or another, by violence or sweet tea._

_I promise I will stay safe as long as you keep taking on a reasonable workload._

_Who are we kidding, that’s a deal neither of us will be able to keep._

_Best,_

_Aurelia._  

“Frizz?” Aurelia looked up. Varric was leaning in the doorway of her bedroom.

“Time to go. Slim says we’re closing the last three rifts today and then heading home tomorrow.”

“Thank the Maker!” Quickly, Aurelia, folded the letter and grabbed her dagger belt from where it lay by the side of her bed. “He means it this time right? This isn’t like a few days ago when he promised we were done and then he found the broken wooden bridge?”

“I hope for his sake he does.” The dwarf grumbled, falling into step beside her. They passed the requisition table and she slipped the letter into the waiting pile. To his credit, Varric had stopped making comments about the letters, but he still liked to raise his eyebrows at her when she sent or received them.

Aurelia knawed at her bottom lip. She hated it when she had to do this, it didn’t happen often but when it did it was a stark reminder of just how vulnerable she could be. “Varric, will you do me a favour?”

“Always, Frizz.”

“Keep an eye on me out there. I feel a little…odd. It happens from time to time, I’ll get this feeling and I’ll just know I’m going to have one of my moments. It’ll probably happen at some point today, if it’s during a fight just…”

“I’ve got your back, ‘Rel.” He patted her arm reassuringly. “No problem.”

“Thanks Varric.”

Everything was going well until they were at the last rift.

“Aurelia, what is wrong with you? Get your head together!” Oliver bellowed at her across the sand in the few seconds break they had between the rift spawning out demons and wraiths. She was breathing hard, hands on her knees almost fully bent over. The sand beneath her was blurring, her head swimming and she blinked, forcing her vision to focus. She didn’t know if the heat was making it worse, but her fighting was appalling, she could barely keep her footing let alone land any accurate hits. It was only because of everyone else’s skill that she had avoided being injured. She waved a hand at him as an apology and forced herself to stand up. The heat of the glaring sun was almost painful, making her body thrum uncomfortably.

Varric was standing a few feet away, watching her with a frown. She really needed to stay near him just in case, but her foot felt shaky when she tried to lift it. She managed only one step before she heard a shriek from directly behind her. A vicious, inhuman shriek. Aurelia just managed to turn in time to see the Rage Demon rise far above her before the fit took her and she fell to the sand below it. Even Varric’s arrows weren’t fast enough to stop the demon before its claws fell upon her shaking body.

-

_Aurelia,_

_We heard you were injured while sealing a rift. Is it serious, are you well? The report told us nothing but the basics, being sent by a soldier and not your brother. I assume he was looking after you._

_Please, write and tell you are fine. Rage demons are powerful but slow, I know you would have been able to get out of the way fast enough. Respond when you can, we are all very worried._

_Cullen._

 

_Aurelia,_

_We’ve just received an updated report, telling us you had a fit at the time of the attack._

_I am begging you, if you can, write back. Cole is saying some very worrying things._

_Cullen._

 

_Cullen,_

_Injuries severe. On our way back. She’s not woken up yet._

_Oliver._


	8. The Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol at me for saying that new chapters wouldn't be as long as the last one.
> 
> Thank you all for everything you do for this little story, the kudos, the bookmarks, the comments, all of it. It means more than I can ever put into words.
> 
> Hope you like this one! It was a labour of love but I'm happy with the outcome! Big thanks as always to pinklyrium, this story would be nonsense without ya

It had been two days. Two days since they’d arrived back at Skyhold. With no other way of getting Aurelia home they’d had to commandeer one of the wagons that was littered around the Approach and use it to transport her. It looked like a fucking corpse cart when she was in it, and the thought had made Oliver nauseous. Even with all the blankets and pillows they’d taken from camp to soften to floor and sides it was still too risky for her to be in there alone, and so the three of them had alternated days that they sat in the cart with her, stopping her body from rolling around and bouncing every time they hit a bump. He wanted to do it by himself, but sitting there with nothing to do except look at his little sister’s limp body made him despair. At least riding at the front would keep him busy. He could plan for routes, protect her like he should have done before. If they ran into trouble, he was bloodthirsty in his fighting, trying to alleviate some of the self-hatred coursing through him as he hacked through bandits and red Templars. But no matter what he did, how many times Dorian and Varric reassured him, he knew he was to blame for what had happened to Aurelia. He should have been next to her, protecting her. The guilt was there when he was fighting, when he was travelling, when he was forcing down food handed to him at mealtimes, when he was lying awake at night trying to rest.

None of them had handled it particularly well. Oliver knew that Aurelia had asked Varric to watch her during the fight, and only a small part of him blamed the dwarf. Mostly he felt sorry for him. Varric didn’t speak much on the road and when they stopped in the evening he’d sit by the fire and take Bianca apart and putting her back together furiously, industriously, eyes glancing up to look at Aurelia every few seconds, like she was suddenly going to sit up, run her hand through her curls and grin at the dwarf. Like he was scared it would happen when he wasn’t paying attention. Dorian’s healing magic wasn’t strong enough to figure out precisely what was going on, and he was wary of healing the surface wounds in case the problem was internal and they would have to reopen the skin. He’d done all he could and Aurelia didn’t seem to be getting worse but still, Dorian hadn't taken his inability to help very well. His jokes and attitude steadily became more and more hysterical, until he and Oliver had had a large fight just as they were entering the Frostbacks. They’d made up hours later and Oliver had let himself cry into Dorian’s arms, just once, that night.

“I can’t lose her, Dorian, I just can’t.” He’d hiccupped, hands gripping the front of the other man’s shirt. Dorian had whispered pointless reassurances, pulling him so, so close.

As soon as they’d rolled through the front gates Oliver had leapt out of the cart, Varric and Dorian at his heels. They’d sent messages ahead arranging for Aurelia to be put in his rooms while Solas tried to heal her. She was a dead weight in his arms despite her steady breathing. There was no way they would have been able to hide her from all the people milling around, and it was likely everyone already knew what had happened, so there was no point taking the longer, more secluded way to his rooms. He pounded up the stairs to the main hall, as fast as he dared, holding her close to his chest. But the hall was completely deserted. The emptiness was more than a little disconcerting, it had always had some kind of life in it, ever since they’d found the place. He suspected his advisors had had a hand in clearing it out.

“You really notice how over the top the décor is when there’s not a hundred nobles dressed to match in the room.” Varric observed.

At that moment, the door to the rotunda opened and Solas came into view. Oliver hurried over to him and together they fell into step, moving towards his quarters. He was babbling, he knew, reeling off what had happened and when and how, all of which Solas already knew. Then he was pleading, begging Solas to tell him that he could do something, but the elf stayed calm and quiet. When they entered his room, he gently placed Aurelia on the bed and stepped back, letting the mage move forward.

Two days of watching Solas rest his hands on her body, pouring magic into her. Two days of sitting by his bed, looking at her stretched out on his blankets. Her skin looked pale and waxy and her eyes were dancing beneath her closed lids. Halfway through the first day, the elf had drawn his hands back from her lower gut, from the wound, and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

“As far as I can tell, the damage of the wound occurring at the same moment her body went into a seizure overwhelmed her. Her system appears to have shut down for its own safety. Dorian’s magic took her out of immediate danger, but still. Healing the wound will be difficult, but doable. The rest is up to her.”

Dorian had come and gone, with food and reassuring words, but Oliver had allowed no one else into his room. He couldn’t have stopped Cole if he tried of course, the spirit appeared every few hours and hovered in the corner, but everyone else had heeded his orders and stayed well away. The rage demon’s claws had gone deep, hitting organs and almost going fully through her. Dorian’s magic healed enough for her to survive the journey, but watching the amount of energy Solas was expending was worrying to say the least. Lyrium bottles were emptied in a growing pile on the desk.

Finally, as night set in on the second day, Solas withdrew his hands and sighed. He was swaying a little on his feet. “It is done.”

“She’s healed?” Oliver shot up from his seat next to the bed. His head was throbbing with exhaustion, he hadn’t slept more than a few hours at a time since they left the Approach. Dorian had almost certainly been feeding him potions that kept him on his feet.

“Her wound is, although the skin will scar. Now all you can do is wait.”

“Solas…” Oliver didn’t know what to say. He and the elf had never been overly close, despite their mutual respect for each other. He gripped the mage’s hand. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Much is still unsure Inquisitor. But your thanks are appreciated. If you have further need of me, you know where I’ll be.”

Minutes after he left, Dorian appeared at the top of the stairs. Feet padding over the soft carpet, he slid his arms around Oliver’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to his hair. He turned his head into the kiss. “You have good timing.”

“Would it make me seem less impressive if I told you we’ve all been sat in the hall most of the day, waiting for someone to make an appearance?”

“Perhaps a little. But it would make you seem more caring.”

“Maker forbid.”

He was able to laugh a little at that, and edged Dorian onto his lap, wrapping his arms around the mage’s waist and resting his chin on his shoulder.

“How is she?”

“Solas has healed her physically, but there’s no telling what the fit did to her. Nothing to do now but wait. Again.”

“You need to rest, amatus.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oliver…”

“I’m going to be here when she wakes up. Who else has she got?”

Dorian twisted on his lap and stared down at him. “Are you serious? You do realise that half of Skyhold would quite happily stand vigil over her bedside in a very dramatic way? You’re a devoted brother and that does you a lot of credit, but you’re not the only one here who cares about her and this “whole world on your shoulders alone” routine really is not necessary.”

He sighed. “I know that. I do, but I couldn’t bear it if she woke up and I wasn’t here.”

“Would you rather she woke up and you were so exhausted you could barely see, let alone spend any time with her?” He pressed another kiss to Oliver’s forehead. “You’ve run yourself into the ground. I’m going to make you a drink that will help you rest.”

It tasted like hot wine. Oliver hated hot wine. He stuck his tongue out and Dorian rolled his eyes. “Sweet Maker, I’m in a relationship with a child.”

“That’s a disturbing statement.” He rested his head on his arms. Aurelia was covered in two thin sheets that covered her dignity but exposed her scar to the open for Solas to heal it. It was large and ugly looked, jagged in a messy line across most of her lower stomach and disappearing over her hip. The skin around it had suffered heavy burns and was puckered and pink. “You know, she’ll love this scar.” He’d mumbled, eyes heavy. “She always wanted something like this, something that showed that she’d actually seen a bit of the world.”

Dorian said something, but Oliver couldn’t really hear what. His arms felt like pillows and his head was drooping. Sleep was pulling him under, too powerful and too tempting to try and resist. Blissful darkness engulfed him before he’d even realised he’d fallen asleep.

-

He felt like he’d been sleeping for a thousand years. His body was slow to wake up and it was a minute or so after opening his eyes that he was able to raise his head and sit up. He was in exactly the same position he’d fallen asleep in, in his chair with his body bent over the bed. Someone had slipped a blanket around his shoulders and it slipped onto the floor as he stretched. Light was streaming in through the windows, it was at least late morning. Maker knows how long he had been asleep. On instinct, he looked to Aurelia’s body. Panic sliced through his brain like a cold knife and he shot out of his chair, sending it crashing to the floor.

His bed was empty, the sheets as tidy as if there’d never been a body lying on them.

“That chair looked expensive, I hope you didn’t break it. Josephine will have your head.”

Oliver’s head twisted around so fast he twisted his neck. Wincing, he squinted past the glaring sun to the figures in his room. It was Aurelia, looking for all the world like she used to when he’d catch her sneaking back into the estate after rolling around with the stable boys, with bright eyes and a cheeky grin. She was still a little pale and her hair really needed a wash, but she was alive. She was alive and walking around. Dorian was with her, an arm around her waist and helping her limp across his room to his desk, where a steaming bowl was waiting. How long had he been out? His feet had carried him to her before his brain had registered what he was doing and he pulled her into a fierce hug that made her wince.

“Steady on, Olly! This thing is still tender.” He pulled back, barely.

“Maker, Aurelia. Don’t you ever do that to me again! I thought…I thought…” His throat was closing up, getting tight. She cupped his cheek and leaned up to press their foreheads together. Neither of them were particularly good at handling raw emotion but they gripped each other tightly, trying to express all the fear and worry through touch instead of having to speak the words aloud to each other. They stayed that way for a few seconds, before Oliver cleared his throat and stepped back.

“Well. Good. Now, what can I get you? Have you eaten? When did you wake up? Do you need some water?”

“Oliver take a breath!” She laughed. Up close, she didn’t look completely recovered, there were dark purple bags carved under her eyes and there was a thin sheen of sweat on her skin, perhaps from standing up for too long. Quickly, he pulled out his chair and pushed her down into it. “I should have known it wouldn’t be long before you started nagging me again.” She said, but she was smiling and her tone was warm.

“You should have seen him when you were out.” Dorian added. “He wouldn’t let anyone other than me come in, Iron Bull was not happy about that.”

“What help would he have been anyway?” Oliver retorted, and Aurelia slapped his arm.

“Be nice. What’s this, Dorian?”

“Chicken broth.” He replied as she picked up the spoon and dipped it into the bowl. “I tried to get you something richer, perhaps roast pork or a cheesecake but the chef seemed rather offended that I’d asked and gave me this monstrosity instead.”

“It’s delicious.” She replied. “Thank you. And thank you for bringing up my clothes.” She was fully dressed, Oliver realised, boots and everything.

“I hope you’re not planning on going anywhere!” He said sharply. She didn’t answer immediately but the wide eyed, slightly guilty look on her face told him all he needed to know. “Aurelia you can’t be serious! You nearly died and you want to go out and, what, spar with Bull and Krem?”

“No…”

“Dorian, talk some sense into my sister, because clearly she doesn’t have any.” Oliver seethed.

The mage raised an eyebrow at his little sister. “As much as I try to stay out of you and your brother’s little squabbles, I have to admit that he does make a good point. I am no healer but,” he touched her shoulder lightly. “I am your friend, and as your friend I am asking you to not push yourself. You need to rest.”

“You two should go into business, the way you make a girl feel guilty you may as well start charging for it.” Aurelia said, then yawned so wide it made her shiver a little. “Although I will admit…” She didn’t need to say anything else, for Oliver was already helping her out of her seat and to his bed.

“Rest, Auri. For as long as you need, not as long as you want. We’ll come by and see you later.” She mumbled something in reply, already turning her face into his pillows away from him. Within minutes, she was fast asleep.

“Come on.” Dorian whispered, tugging on Oliver’s hand. He didn’t really want to go, he wanted to stay and keep watch over her, just in case something happened, but he let the other man pull him out of his room anyway.

They walked along the hallway together in silence. Oliver’s heart felt light. She was fine, his sister was alive and would hopefully make a full recovery. On an impulse, he twisted Dorian to face him and kissed him, breathless with happiness. It had been days since they’d been remotely intimate with each other, even longer since they’d had sex and the Dorian responded ferociously, curled against him like fire. Elation turned to heady desire, and the kiss turned sloppy, both overwhelmed with the feeling of the other. Dorian’s hand was in his curls, tugging his head back and pulling on his sensitive nerve endings so he could have access to his neck. The feeling of his hair being pulled was almost sinful and he grabbed Dorian’s arse, dizzy with the way it filled his hands perfectly. They were rutting against each other in the corridor in a very undignified way but he felt too good, it felt too good, to stop. He was hard, so hard it was almost painful against his trousers, and so was Dorian, the sensation of their cocks sliding over each other, even through at least two layers of fabric, after too long of being without each other in this way, was making Dorian arch and moan like a whore and Oliver grunt and grind like an animal. He was falling down into sexual pleasure and it wasn’t until Dorian let out a gasp of shock that he pulled his mouth back from where it had been attached to his jawline.

He thought for one awful moment, that they’d been caught. “What is it?”

“Cold stone.” Dorian grinned, and Oliver realised in his eagerness he’d shoved the mage against the stone wall, and hiked up one leg so it would fit around his waist. He laughed and dropped his head against Dorian’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to the skin that was visible through his clothes as an apology. The mood wasn’t ruined, he was still eager. But he was also sensible enough to know that fucking in the very open hallway next to both the bedroom where his sister was asleep and the main hall that was full of nobles was not the best idea in the world.

“Will you take me to your bedroom, Lord Pavus?” He asked, leaning back and offering his hand.

“Certainly, Inquisitor.” His lover smirked, taking the proffered hand. “Will you kiss me farewell at my door?”

“Can I choose where on your body?”

Dorian laughed, the sound bright and cheerful as it echoed off the stone.

-

It was another three days before Oliver was convinced she’d rested enough. Aurelia talked a big game but the wound had knocked her down, even if she didn’t like admitting it. She was able to walk around his room without getting tired but she had no idea what fighting or even trekking around Thedas for hours at a time would do to her. She wanted to be annoyed at how far this could set her back, she really did, but the fact was that she had almost died, and if the worst that came out of this was that she’d be a little slower on the battlefield then she really couldn’t complain.

Thankfully, she was allowed visitors. Oliver and Dorian spent quite a lot of time with her, even if they weren’t speaking, Oliver would work at his desk while Dorian lounged on the bed and read to her. Varric was one of the first to drop in, and they made stilted small talk for a while.

“Look, Frizz...” He eventually said, resting his elbows on the mattress. Aurelia leaned forwards, grabbing his hand.

“Varric, don’t.”

“No,” He raised his hand. “Just, let me say my piece. It was shit bad luck what happened out there in the Approach. Like, worst scenario anyone could have thought of bad luck. I let you down, and I’m sorry.”

She rolled her eyes. “I love you, but don’t be an idiot about this. None of us could have predicted that shit, I was as likely to have a fit at any other time that day. You didn’t let me down and from what Oliver told me you got rid of the demon pretty quickly.”

“Not quickly enough.” He sighed.

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for.” She told him firmly. “We’re all here, we’re all alive and healthy. I’ve already got Oliver peddling the “I let you down” routine and I don’t want you feeling some kind of saintly guilt whenever you see me now.”

He still didn’t look convinced. “Look Varric, we knew this was going to happen at some point. You didn’t let me down and I don’t hate you. So don’t use this as an excuse to beat yourself up, ok? Now, tell me what’s been going on, has Cassandra forgiven you for lying about Hawke yet?”

By the time he left, Aurelia liked to think he looked a little more cheerful. Bull and the Chargers were also regular visitors, sneaking alcohol past Oliver and spreading out on the massive bed (apart from Bull, who stuck to a chair, just in case). To her slight surprise, Solas also dropped in a few times, to check up on her health or bring her some books he thought she might like. Sera and Blackwall also dropped in, Sera with cake and Blackwall with a wood carving of a rage demon with a dagger in its throat. Spending time with the two of them always made Aurelia feel like she was mediating a conversation between a younger sister and a jovial favourite uncle, but she enjoyed their company. Even Cassandra stuck her head around the door to wish her good health. Aurelia and the Seeker had never had the chance to form a close friendship, but she had a lot of respect and no small amount of awe for the other woman. Vivienne sent a large and beautiful bouquet of flowers, but didn’t stop by in person. Aurelia was fine with that, the woman intimidated her. Oliver had assured her multiple times that Vivienne was perfectly amiable but she couldn’t get the thought out of her head that her mother might have been a lot like her had one of her many ploys to gain permanent favour at the court actually worked. Cole was a near constant presence at her side (and, she suspected, responsible for the glass of water by her bedside that always seemed to be full). Hours passed quietly when he was with her, but sometimes the peace was nice after the chaos that the Chargers usually brought with them.

None of the advisors came to visit. Josephine did send a gift; a beautiful bottle of limited edition hair oil from her favourite seller in Val Royeaux. Aurelia tried, she really tried, not to let Cullen’s absence weigh on her mind, but it was difficult. The letters they’d sent each other while she was at the Approach had been getting closer to something that resembled flirtation and regardless, they were friends were they not? It seemed a little strange that he wouldn’t come and visit. But she knew how hard it would be for him to leave his work and really, could you begrudge someone for not visiting because he’s controlling the army that’s keeping Corypheus at bay? It seemed like a reasonable excuse.

When Oliver finally agreed to let her move back to her own room, Aurelia could have danced for joy. Even with all the windows open in her brother’s room, showing views of the Frostbacks that were unbelievable, she was starting to climb the walls. Instead of going straight to her room she took the time to walk the entire castle, stopping to talk to every familiar face she saw. Being ‘strongly encouraged’ to stay in a room for an extended period of time was a little too familiar for her liking, and she took advantage of the beautiful weather. By the time she walked through the garden and pushed open her bedroom door it was late afternoon and the air was heavy with the smell of medicinal herbs and buzzing insects. It felt odd being in her room, it looked exactly the same as when she’d left and yet so much had happened. As if it had guessed the direction of her thoughts, her scar gave a painful twinge as she sat on the bed. Solas had assured her the tenderness would eventually fade, that magic had done all it could and the skin now needed to heal itself. Her trainer had always told her that muscular ache from a wound was good as it meant you were healing well, but looking and feeling like an old woman every time she sat down or stood up was a little difficult.

Something on the table caught her eye. A pile of letters had been placed there, tied up with string. Wincing, Aurelia managed to stand, and picked them up. She recognized the writing almost instantly, it was all the letters she and Cullen had sent each other. Someone, presumably Varric or Dorian (because if Oliver had seen them, the mother hen would have confronted her by now) had made the effort to bring them back. It was sweet. Idly, she thumbed through them. Most of his she’d read multiple times already (because apparently she was an embarrassing teenager incapable of handling her emotions around attractive people) but there were a couple that she hadn’t seen before. They were short, frantic, sent by him after she’d been injured.

Aurelia bit her lip as she scanned the words. Was it wrong that his obvious worry for her caused a little ball of heat to rise through her stomach and make its home in her chest?

_I am begging you, if you can, write back…_

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Aurelia groaned aloud and knuckled her forehead. Fuck this situation, fuck her feelings and fuck Cullen for making her feel this way. Pulling out her small wooden chair, she slumped into it, ignoring the lance of pain in her gut.

She knew what would happen if she chose to go down this path, if she chose to…fully embrace these feelings that she had for him. She’d fumble and say stupid shit, he’d feel awkward around her as a result and she’d have singlehandedly ruined a friendship. To say nothing of the teasing she’d have to endure from the rest of the ingrates that made up her brother’s inner circle. Refusing to acknowledge this damn flutter in her chest every time she saw him, and pushing every kind of warm, gooey feeling down deep inside would be the most sensible thing to do. This wasn’t her first time doing this, she knew that with enough time and patience the feelings would fade. The question was, did she want to?

She wanted Cullen, Aurelia realised, slightly miserable about it, wanted him a lot. Not just sexually (although if the Maker granted her that she’d be a devout Andrastian for the rest of her life) but in every way. She wanted them to know and understand each other more than anyone else did. She wanted to see him in the morning, with sleep in his eyes and the sun in his face. She wanted to laugh with him, fight with him, Maker she wanted to kiss him, wanted him to lay his head in her lap at the end of a long day so she could run her fingers through his hair, wanted him to push her against the nearest surface and fuck her.

She wanted to bare her soul to him, and wanted so, so desperately for him to lay himself bare to her.

She groaned again. Fuck. Aurelia was a realist above all things. She knew that Cullen didn’t feel the same way (the man was an open book and Maker bless men, but they aren’t the most subtle of creatures), knew what Oliver’s reaction would be, and that in itself was almost enough to convince her that it wasn’t worth it. Ellis once told her that it was impossible to hide how you felt from someone you cared for, either they’d notice or you’d just burst and tell them yourself, but Aurelia hadn’t grown up free like he and the rest of her siblings had. Until recently, her entire life had consisted of pushing down how you really felt and maintaining a façade, even when all you wanted to do was scream how you really felt into the other person’s face. To preserve her friendship with Cullen she could, and would, do it again.

“He wouldn’t say no.”

Aurelia spluttered, twisting in her chair. “Cole!”

The spirit was sat on her bed, head tilted like he was listening to something she couldn’t hear. Which, from what she understood about how Cole operated, was highly possible.

“What are you doing here?”

“You were hurting. I came to help.”

She sighed. “No Cole, I’m not hurting. Just thinking.”

“He wouldn’t say no. Your brother was right.”

She smiled. “Of course he wouldn’t. He’s too kind to say no. Just like you. That doesn’t mean he’ll say yes, or that it’s a good idea.”

“I want to help.”

She smiled at him. “There’s nothing to help with Cole. I’m fine. Like I said, just thinking.”

He looked at her silently, without judgement, then disappeared into the ether. Aurelia smiled at the space he’d just occupied, feeling a little unsteady. Conversations with Cole tended to do that, leave you feeling rather vulnerable, like something had just been opened to the air.

-

She slept for another few hours, and woke after the torches were lit. It seemed like a quiet night for everyone in Skyhold, the castle was empty by its usual standards. Krem had told her that everyone had been on tenterhooks waiting to find out whether she was well, which was as embarrassing as it was flattering, and she supposed after the drama, most people were grateful for a quiet night.

For Aurelia, all that meant was that she was wide awake and had no one around to speak to. Resigned to a night in bed, she returned to her room. The letters were on the table, where she’d left them, but they’d been joined by a mug of freshly brewed sweet tea. It was so hot it almost burned her hands when she picked it up, and the smell made her smile. Cole must have left it for her, sweet boy. Then the idea struck her.

This might not have been what Cole intended it for, but she knew someone else that enjoyed sweet tea.

The walk to his office seemed to take an age. Aurelia didn’t really know why she was so nervous, she’d done it plenty of times before. Actually, that was a lie, she knew exactly why she was so nervous but she was refusing to acknowledge it. The door she approached was shut tight, but candlelight was burning through the gap under the door and she could hear movement inside. Her pulse was beating erratically in her ears.

“Pull yourself together, Aurelia.” She whispered to herself, willing herself to act like a woman and not an idiot, before rapping smartly on the door three times and pulling it open.

He wasn’t wearing his armour. That’s the first thing she registered. Everything, the greaves, pauldrons, chestplate, even the ridiculous cloak had been discarded and were lying on various surfaces in the room. Cullen was sat at his desk, scribbling away on a report, in a linen shirt and plain black trousers. The shirt was open at the neck and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the sight of his forearms made Aurelia’s mouth go a little dry.

Maker, since when did she have a forearm fetish?

Other than that, he looked like shit, even worse than she did. The bags under his eyes that had been starting to appear before she left were now firmly set in the lines of his face, and they made his eyes look puffy and tired. His mouth was a thin line as he frowned down at the report in front of him. He looked haggard, and more than a little vicious. But, despite his obvious exhaustion, the candles did a lot to soften the harder lines of his face that recent times had added and the way his hair was falling into his eyes should frankly be against the law. He was still so beautiful it made her heart jitter, and Aurelia knew she was absolutely, completely fucked.

“Leave it on the desk, thank you Jim.” He said shortly, not looking up. She raised her eyebrows and didn’t move from the doorway.

It took a few seconds, but Cullen eventually looked up, still frowning, and his eyes fell on hers. She could feel the smile growing on her face, embarrassingly large as he blinked and her presence seemed to register in his tired brain.

“Hello, Cullen.”

There was a shriek of wood against stone as Cullen pushed himself out from behind his desk and strode towards her. Was he going to hug her? Did she want him to? Maker, what a stupid question, of course she wanted him to.

He didn’t. At the last moment he pulled back and stopped just inches from her. But he was grinning down at her, smile almost as bright as hers. They stood there for a moment in the doorway to his office, smiling at each other in silence. Aurelia wasn’t quite sure what to say and honestly, it didn’t feel necessary.

“Aurelia,” he breathed, still smiling. “You’re…you’re….”

“Still here.” She replied and she could hear the happiness in her voice, despite attempts to keep it neutral. “Like you could ever get rid of me.”

Cullen laughed, sounding a little breathless. His hands, bare without the leather gloves, clenched and unclenched at his side. Then, with movements so decisive and precise Aurelia wanted to believe he’d planned it, he reached out for her empty hand, raised it to his lips and pressed a firm kiss to the knuckle. His lips were somewhere between soft and rough, and his scar scraped a little against the skin on her hand, making it tingle. Maker.

“I’m so happy you’re fully recovered.” He said quietly. Aurelia felt a little like a fish, sure she was gawping at him in an extremely unattractive manner.

“I, uh…I brought you some sweet tea.”

She could almost hear Dorian groaning about lost opportunities from here.

He laughed again. She’d never seen him this open and cheerful while working before.

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you drunk?”

“No!” He replied, sounding a little affronted. “Can’t a man be happy without being accused of being inebriated?”

“A man can, absolutely.” She retorted. “But you, happy? At night in the middle of a pile of reports? I suspect alcohol. Is it Varric’s personal stash of whiskey? Be careful with that, it seems great when he offers to share it with you but the hangover is never worth it.”

“I think I preferred writing to you, you couldn’t natter on like this on paper.” He teased, stepping away and letting her fully into his office.

She gasped, and glared at him while pulling her chair from the corner of his office to his desk, deliberately scraping it against the stone floor so that the sound made him wince. “I do not natter!”

“I don’t expect you’d be able to tell if you did or not. Let me, as an unbiased observer tell you honestly, you do.”

“Unbiased my arse!” She laughed, setting the tea down in front of him. “You’ve had it in for me since I first got here, you’re my worst enemy.”

“Do you frequently bring your enemies gifts of sweet tea?”

“What can I say, I’m a giver.”

“You’re something, that’s for sure.”

They sat together for a while, sharing the tea and saying little. Cullen was making his way steadily through the seemingly endless pile of work, and Aurelia was occupying herself by reading each report as he finished it. Most were boring, unimportant things, but there were a few interesting plans in motion that Oliver had kept from her.

“Cole and this amulet, Cassandra and the Seekers, why doesn’t Oliver tell me any of this?”

“He probably believes he’s protecting you.” Cullen mused, handing her another sheet. “You do have a slight reputation for throwing yourself into danger. Besides, what good would it have done for you to know? Until today you weren’t in a position to help.”

“But I could have spoken to them, Cole especially. You know how he gets about things, apart from Varric and Solas he didn’t have anyone else to talk to, Maker knows he and Oliver aren’t the closest. There are other ways to help than taking action.”

He was watching her with an appraising eye. “That’s a very mature way of thinking.”

She laughed. “Don’t say that like I’m a teenager with an childish attitude Cullen. I’m six months older than you, if anyone here should be more mature it’s me.”

“Isn’t it rather childish to compare our ages that closely?”

“Yes, well, I can’t be expected to be an adult all the time.” Aurelia grinned at him and he rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

They fell into a comfortable silence again.

“Why didn’t you visit me?” He looked as surprised as she felt. She hadn’t planned on asking him, in fact, she’d actively decided to not to. Damn.

“W-What?” Andraste’s ass, he was stuttering. She was a dick.

Frantically, Aurelia tried to cover herself. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…it really doesn’t matter. I know how busy you are, I guess I was just wondering. It would have been nice to see you that’s all. But don’t feel bad about it, it’s really not a big deal.”

Would Oliver be angry if so soon after recovering she threw herself off the battlements? At least the cold wind on the way down might soothe her burning face.

He put his quill down and met her gaze with a steady, if slightly nervous look. “I wanted to.” 

“You did?” Aurelia replied quickly, hating how eager she sounded.

“Of course!” He looked a little indignant that she thought otherwise. “But there was so much to be taken care of in the immediate aftermath, and your brother didn’t let anyone see you at first. After that…I confess I didn’t want to intrude while you were healing. I regularly asked Varric how you were though, to the point where he told me I should just get a grip and see for myself.”

She bit the inside of her cheek to stop a smile. Of course he did, Varric the matchmaker.

“I suppose,” he continued, voice going slightly soft. “I was a little worried of how the wound might have affected you, personally. I would rather you heal amongst friends where you can relax and be yourself without feeling the need to put a façade of wellbeing on for a soldier.”

Aurelia didn’t quite know what to say. “You are a friend, Cullen.” She said, quietly. “A dear one, not a soldier. I’ve never felt the need to put a façade up around you.”

Now they were both blushing, how embarrassing.

“Would you, uh, would you like to see it?” She asked. “The scar? It’s quite impressive, according to Bull, and he should know, he’s got more than a few.”

“Will it put mine to shame?” He smiled. They were still speaking softly, why she wasn’t quite sure, it wasn’t like they were about to be heard by anyone. The candlelight had dipped low and most of the room was covered by darkness, apart from the area around his desk. Their own little circle of light. He was still watching her, and it was making her heart batter against her ribs horribly loudly.

“That little shaving scar on your lip?” She tried to laugh. It was unsteady in her throat. The air around them felt heavy with meaning, though what she couldn’t say. It felt important, like whatever she said and did in the next minutes would be significant in a way she didn’t understand. “I should think so.”

He leant back a little, a smile still playing around his lips (those _lips_ ) and gestured for her to go ahead. She managed to wince only a little as she rose to her feet, which was progress of a kind.

“Does it pain you?” He asked gently as she moved around to his side of the desk. “Solas says it will, for a time. How it will affect my ability to fight is still unsure.”

“I doubt anything could stop you from doing what you set your mind to.” There was a weight to his words, to his tone. They slid through her skin and wormed their way into her very bones.

“I find it’s my heart that’s more powerful than my mind.” She whispered. Their eyes were level as she leaned against the desk and he sat forward. Forget butterflies in the stomach, she felt them in her entire being, as if at any moment she would burst through her own skin as a thousand winged creatures and disappear over the tips of the mountains.

He had no response to that, and she forced her eyes away from his, to the plain navy blue fabric of her blouse. She was hyperaware of the feeling of the fabric of her skin as she inched it over her stomach, showing the rolls of skin. Her trousers were high on her waist and using her other hand she inched them down, until the entire scar was fully visible, from stomach to hip. It felt intimate, way more than it should have been. She’d shown the scar to everyone, even strutted around Oliver’s room in her chest binding to fully show it off for the Chargers (to a rousing standing ovation, thank you very much), but this…this felt different.

They were close. As in, very close. If she’d wanted, she could have position herself between his legs. As it was, his lower body was twisted slightly to the side to make room, elbows resting on the arms of his chair. She could hear him breathing, hear the sharp intake of breath as he saw the mark in all it’s glory.

“I didn’t know you’d been burned too, but I suppose it’s obvious when you think about it.” He murmured.

“It hurts me that you weren’t thinking about it.” Aurelia tried to tease him but her voice sounded rough when she spoke. His gaze had dropped from her face to her stomach and she watched his eyes dart over the scar, analysing every single bit of it.

“I was more concerned with the probability of you dying or not.” Cullen replied, and Maker save her if his voice didn’t drip down her spine like honey. “May I?” He held out a hand, questioning.

She didn’t trust herself to speak like a normal, rational person (which she was decidedly not at that moment) so she nodded. His touch was careful but firm, like everything else about him. Aurelia’s muscles tensed on instinct and she made herself relax against the feeling of his fingers against her bare skin. Slowly, they traced the wound from beginning to end and back, travelling along her lower gut and over her hip in a never ending pattern.

It felt…well, erotic wasn’t quite appropriate, but it was definitely something.

She felt like she was falling down a tunnel, everything was becoming less and less important compared to the feeling of his touch. He looked up at her, his face inches away from hers, and there was awe on his face. “Not one in a hundred people could have survived something like this.” He said, so softly she wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or not. “You must be blessed by Andraste.”

She wanted to laugh at that, she really did. But it wasn’t funny at all, not with the way he was looking at her like she was something otherworldly and beautiful.

“You can’t think that much of me.” Aurelia said, more a statement of fact than a protest. His hand had stilled but was still a warm presence on her skin and she relished in the feeling of it.

He didn’t even pause.

“I think everything of you.”

She should have realised how inevitable it was sooner. The first time they spoke, all of Cole’s vague and misleading comments, the late nights and the letters, it was all leading to this.

And so, because it was inevitable and Aurelia had never been one to do the sensible thing, she leant forwards to close the distance between them, and brushed her lips over his.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends! I'm sorry that it's been a minute, but there has been a LOT going on. Long story short, I've got a job (like a full time proper adult job shit) and am moving to the capital of the country in four days. And I have nowhere to live. Totally fun and not at all stressful. So yeah, I have most of the next chapter written, I just need to fill it out, but I'm anticipating being REAL busy and tired over the next couple of weeks so I don't know when I'll next have chance to upload a chapter! Hopefully it'll be reasonably soon but I just don't know when
> 
> Watch me do it tomorrow lol
> 
> Anyway! Onto more interesting stuff...
> 
> WE JUST HIT ONE HUNDRED KUDOS HOLY SHIT
> 
> Thank you, thank you thank you thank you so much. I can't even begin to explain what it means to me. So I won't try, but thank you.
> 
> This chapter was originally one, but a lot happens so I decided to split it in two to try to hide how much of a word vomit it is lol. Make sure to give me a follow on Tumblr @preparefortrevelyans for updates, and a lot of me reblogging smut. So much smut.
> 
> As always, lots of gratitude and appreciation for pinklyrium, thank you for both your fab editing and advice.

It was nothing. Barely anything. Just the lightest press of her lips against his. But the contact sent reality crashing back into her mind, heaving her out of the slight daze both the candlelight and Cullen had sent her into. 

Maker, what had she done?

Aurelia reared back in a panic, a thousand apologies tripping over themselves as they raced towards the tip of her tongue. Her mind was going at a million miles an hour, examining every way out of her current situation, how long it was going to be before she could face Cullen again and how long until the rest of Skyhold found out what she’d done.  
But Cullen was following her as she leaned back, moving out of his chair to stand over her. She didn’t even have the chance to start fumbling with an apology before he was kissing her, mouth slotting neatly over hers.

Andraste take her, she thought she’d found the Maker’s bosom.

His lips were a little rough, and moved over hers in a quiet display of authority. Her head was tipped back to enable their mouths to meet and she breathed in sharply through her nose as she felt his fingers rise up her neck and cup her jaw, leaving tingles in their wake. The touch was gentle, questioning and Aurelia was glad she was leaning on the desk because she wasn’t sure she could stand. One hand gripped his shoulder, as an anchor as much as anything else, an attempt to cling onto something real and grounding in this out of body experience. Once she’d done so, his free arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her tight against his chest. She slid her hand up into his hair, revelling in both the softness of it, and simply the fact that she was touching him. 

Their mouths were moving frantically against each other now, Aurelia pouring every inch of tension she’d felt over the past few months into her kiss. One of them, she wasn’t sure who, had moved their tongue into the other’s mouth, and the extra contact felt wonderfully filthy. Her feet lifted off the stone floor as Cullen pushed her back further and with a little quick manoeuvre she succeeded in placing a leg on either side of his waist and using it to drag his lower body tight against hers. 

The Chantry may preach about the sins of the flesh but Aurelia was half convinced she was touching the heavens. If the heavens was Cullen’s half hard cock pressing into her upper thigh. He groaned, the sound reverberating in her chest as he slipped his mouth away from hers and started placing sloppy, open mouthed kisses down her neck. It was too much, it felt too good, Aurelia thought she was going to burst out of her own skin with desire. She was staring up at the ceiling as Cullen made his way down the column of her neck, trying to catch her breath. A whimper, unbidden, fell out of her mouth as he gently sucked on a piece of exposed skin and the sound caused him to tighten his hand on her waist.

Maker, she’d let him take her right there if she could. But there was no ignoring the late night chill in the air, or the ridge of the table digging a little uncomfortably into her leg, or the fact that her hair was hanging dangerously close to a candle and as much as she liked that her hair looked like fire she wasn’t quite ready to make it a reality yet. 

“C-Cullen.” She managed to get out. He pulled back, but didn’t move away, leaving enough room for her feet to find the floor again. Colour was high in his cheeks, hair hanging over his eyes, which were sparkling. His lips were red, and slightly open. The sight made her heart quake a little.

“Sorry,” He replied, voice hoarse. “Got a little carried away.”

“I am not complaining.” She said, feeling giddy. His hand was still on her jaw and it moved up to cup the side of her face. She knew that she was grinning like an idiot at him but couldn’t bring herself to care. 

“You don’t regret it?” Cullen asked, gently running his thumb along the freckles on her cheeks, tentatively, like he was afraid she’d pull away. It really wasn’t fair that she was supposed to be able to think while he was doing that. “I thought perhaps, in the moment…”

“No!” Aurelia said quickly. “No. Not at all.” Hesitantly, she leant her head forward so it rested at the base of his throat. She felt his chest rise and fall with a sigh as she wrapped her arms around his waist. They sat there for a moment, holding each other, breathing each other in. He smelled like freshly washed shirts and she let herself drown in his scent, feeling something pretty close to ecstasy. 

“I have to admit, it would sting a little if you did.” She could feel him smiling into her hair. “Considering how badly I wanted you to. Kiss me, I mean.”

If an entire body could blush in pleasure, Aurelia’s did. She wasn’t quite ready to lose her reputation of snarky and sarcastic yet, so hid her smile in his shirt. “I feel like I probably wanted it for longer, given that you are essentially a physical version of a straight woman’s wet dream.”

He laughed, loud and bright. It felt nice knowing that she had done that. “Please tell me you’re not making this a competition.”

“About who was pining for longer? No need, it was definitely me.”

“When I spoke to you on the battlements, all those months ago, all I could think was that you must have been born of the fire and the stars, because nothing else could match you in spirit.”

“...alright, that was amazing. But you have to admit you ruined it slightly when I heard you badmouthing me in the War Room.”

“You really need to get over that. Besides,” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, making her grin, if possible, even wider. “I’m sure I’ve more than made up for it.”

Aurelia supposed she could let this one go. She hadn’t felt so happy in living memory, so she said nothing and let him pull her closer. It was a tight grip, fierce and safe. “So, what do we do now?”

“Now? Well,” He said. “Now, I’m going to keep holding you in my arms because it feels quite nice-“

“Only quite?”

“-and then, at some point in the future I thought you might want to repeat it? Preferably without all the bumbling beforehand, although I believe most of that was me.”

“Would you like me to be showing as much skin as I was when we repeat this?”

Cullen breathed a laugh. “I..uh…I wouldn’t want to make any demands.”

They were silent again. Aurelia could have happily stayed there forever. Hang Corypheus, hang everything that would dare to intrude on this perfect moment in time.

“I just had a thought.” Cullen said, pulling back to grimace down at her. He was, if possible, even more handsome this close up, the flecks of something that looked a lot like gold, shining through his brown eyes. Partly because she wanted to, and partly because she could, Aurelia tipped her head back and pressed a gentle kiss to his chin.

“Tell me.”

“How awful do you think Dorian will be about this?”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“Yes.”

“Ten.”

He groaned. “I can’t wait.” Then he looked down at her, and his face softened. The kiss on her lips was sweet, chaste, but sweet. “It’s worth it.”

“The things you say.” She mimicked Dorian, making him laugh again. Thinking of the mage made someone else appear in her mind and she swore suddenly, pulling out of the embrace. His arms dropped, but didn’t move away, resting on her upper thighs instead. Only Bull’s hands were big enough to circle her thighs completely (that was a story guaranteed to never get back to anyone), but Cullen’s were warm, and it was comforting. 

“What is it?”

She sighed. “I just had a thought.”

He kissed her forehead again, because he was sweeter than any man had the right to be. “Tell me.”

“How badly do you think Oliver is going to react?”

Hearing Cullen swear was an interesting experience, one that Aurelia definitely wanted to revisit at a later time when dearest Olly was the furthest thing from their minds. By the time he was done, they were standing apart in his office, in a state that could be best described as intense panic. 

“Well, the good news is that finding a new Commander will be a lot of trouble, so he probably won’t actually kill you.” She supplied, trying to be helpful. Judging by the look on his face, it wasn’t especially. 

“This was exactly why I was trying not to…” He gestured vaguely towards her as if that was supposed to mean anything. He sighed, looking a little forlorn and Aurelia itched to reach out and take his hand. Minutes before, touching each other had seemed natural, an important part of the little bubble they had created around themselves. Now reality was back, and there were rules. Did Cullen like handholding? What if he thought she had sweaty hands? What if he had sweaty hands? Would she ever stop acting like a twelve year old with her first crush? 

Screw it. She leant forwards and caught his fingers with hers. It made him stop moving at least, and he approached her with a sigh. Gently, she kissed the top of his knuckles, watching the line of tension in his shoulders ease slightly. 

“It will be fine.” Aurelia told him, trying to reassure herself at the same time. “He doesn’t have to find out yet. There’s far too much going on what with Adamant and everything. And   
I suppose we should figure out precisely what this is before we start telling other people.” She rested her hand on his chest, feeling the thump of his heart under her palm. “Do you want to keep it quiet?”

Cullen looked a little relieved, or at least mollified. “Is that what you want to do?”

“I want you. Everything else is a little irrelevant.”

The words fell off her tongue with surprising ease, and made her cringe inwardly, but the way they made him smile and step closer to her was worth it.

-

“Good morning to you dear brother, on this gorgeous morning where everyone is utterly beautiful, even you!”

A pair of bloodshot eyes glared at her resentfully from her brother’s desk. Aurelia looked a little closer.

“Maker, are you…you’re hungover!” She laughed loudly and delightedly. “You’re actually hungover! You haven’t had one of those since you were a teenager and stole some of   
Mother’s absinthe from the cellar.”

“Shut up.” Oliver replied, voice sounding like it had been dragged over hot coals. “Too much talking.”

“How did it happen, did Bull finally convince you to stay for more drinks in the Rest? Or did you get a little too heavy handed with your wine pouring in your oh-so-smart-and-dignified evenings with Vivienne?” She was absolutely thrilled at this turn of events and walked closer. All the telltale signs were there: knotted hair, bloodshot eyes, something that looked suspiciously like dried drool on day old clothes. Her big brother, the mother hen, had well and truly drunk too much. What a blessed day.

“Dorian. Wine. Strong.”

Aurelia laughed again. “I bet he’s got some stories to tell about what you did.”

There was a muffled groan from somewhere to her left and she turned to see Dorian, half on the bed and half on the floor.

“He drank twice as much as I did so I wouldn’t count on it.” Oliver said, downing a pint of water in three large gulps.

Aurelia laughed again, because everything was funny, and brilliant. “You know, I’m half tempted to drag you out to the training ring and do to you what you did to me all those months ago.”

He got to his feet, swayed a little then by sheer determination alone, managed to walk forwards without looking like a hunchback, which was more than she had ever managed so soon after drinking. “I literally couldn’t think of anything worse. Besides, I’ve got a meeting at the War Table about three minutes ago, and the last thing I need is Josephine clucking over my tardiness.”

“You’re a prick when you’re hungover.” She said affectionately. “Josephine has treated you far better than you deserve, she just treats you like you treat everyone else.”

“Annoying, isn’t it.”

“Very.” Aurelia grinned. “I’ll walk with you, I’m meeting Bull for training soon.”

“Are you coming Dorian?” Her brother asked the mage as he reached the bannister, leaning on it with his head bowed.

There was another groan from the bed, and Aurelia took that as a no.

She wondered why she’d never realised how beautiful Skyhold was before. Oh it was impressive, and definitely striking, but there was an old beauty in the way the cold morning sun shone over the cracked stone in the main hall, reflecting off the glints of metal in her brother’s throne and making her squint when it caught her full in the face. 

Maker, she was a mooning puppy. Someone should slap her before she starts voicing these thoughts aloud.

Last night, after many more kisses, she had left Cullen in his office. He’d wanted to walk her back to her rooms but they would risk being seen and if she had him within centimetres of her bed she really wouldn’t be able to stop herself. To put it bluntly, she’d been walking on air ever since. They’d come to the agreement that during the day, and when around others, they’d continue as before. They both had too much else going on in the light hours, most of the time they didn’t see each other anyway. But she fervently hoped that their evenings together would now be vastly different.

And yes, part of her was counting down the hours until she would see him, and yes part of her was hoping they might cross paths in the day and be able to sneak a moment alone together, and yes she was turning over memories of his lips in her mind, and had been most of the night, but she was an adult. Cullen was not the first man she’d had feelings for, nor was he the first man to reciprocate them. They were both working for an organisation that may call on them to give their lives, as so many already had, to save the world. This thing between them, gentle and meaningful as it may be, came second to that. They both knew that, they both gladly accepted it, even if it limited their time together. It was probably why they were so suited for each other, she mused as she and Oliver walked through the hall together, they were both at their happiest when they could fully devote their being to something greater than them, whether that was a cause, or even another person.

She bid Oliver goodbye, still lost in her own thoughts and it wasn’t until she was walking down the large stone steps and the leather brushed her fingers that she jerked, and came back to herself. Cullen was passing her, already disappearing into the hall, with his usual attaché of soldiers. But there was no mistaking the feeling of the leather, or the way his little finger wrapped around hers and squeezed it, just for a second. She pressed her lips together to hide her smile as she jumped down the last few steps. Damn them both for being such fools.

-

It carried on that way for another quiet, blissful three weeks that shot by. Oliver was barely in Skyhold, constantly off somewhere in Thedas with Dorian, Solas and Sera. Cullen had told her that they were visiting all areas that were populated anywhere near Adamant, evacuating who would go and arming those who refused. It was hard to predict how widespread the fighting would spread, especially if demons were involved, and Oliver preferred to be in the field, trusting his advisors to do their jobs. Aurelia would spend the day occupying her mind and body by training with Bull and Krem, and reading with Dorian in the library. Blackwall had started teaching her how to whittle, and she enjoyed passing the hours with him in the barn that smelled like the stables on the Trevelyan estate, listening as his laugh seemed to make the wood around them creak. When she wasn’t making wooden shapes that could have been a horse and could have been a snake, she was sparring with Cassandra, drinking with Varric or talking with Josephine. Whenever she and Cullen passed each other there was a smile, a friendly query about the other’s health, perhaps a light hearted teasing comment. They were friends after all, it was perfectly normal for them to joke together. 

Only once had they nearly slipped. 

She had been training with Cassandra in the ring. The warrior had been taught a fighting style that was similar to the Red Templars, and was determined that everyone learned how to adapt their fighting styles accordingly to match it. As far as Aurelia knew, she was the only one that hadn’t complained about having to do so. 

It had been hard. There was a reason Cassandra was known as one of the fiercest warriors in Thedas. Every move Aurelia made the other woman seemed to have predicted, her shield blocking any attempts to duck and weave and dance out of reach. The pointed metal had jarred her shoulder more than once. She was aching, sweat running down her forehead, and the only positive was that Cassandra was not faring much better. But both women were stubborn to a fault, and determined to see it through. Armour, leather and cloth had been abandoned long ago and now both Cassandra was down to her undershirt, and Aurelia to her breastband. She was too focused on the fight to be concerned about baring her stomach rolls and stretch marks to anyone passing, and the cool air whipping her skin helped her focus. 

Finally, using the last of her strength, Aurelia feinted, let Cassandra knock her side again with her shield, pretended to fall as a result then at the last second twisted and swung her leg in a wide arc, knocking the Seeker’s feet out from under her. Cassandra fell, but Aurelia’s exhaustion had made her sloppy and she swung too hard, pitching forwards and landing on her stomach. 

They lay there, Cassandra on her back and Aurelia on her stomach, both wheezing with fatigue. It was a minute before she could drag herself to her feet but when she did she offered her hand to the other woman, who took it without hesitation.

“Impressive.” The Nevarran had said, a small smile transforming the usually determined lines on her face. “It will be an honour to fight alongside you.”

Aurelia had wheezed something vaguely intelligible in reply. As expected, a small crowd had gathered to watch the two masters fight, mainly bored foot soldiers on patrol who’d been passing by. But leaning over the battlements, reports in hand completely forgotten, was Cullen. She could feel his gaze on her from here, and because she was too exhausted to think about how it might look, and very aware of how the way she was breathing caused her chest to push against the bindings in a way that looked rather delicious, if she did say so herself, she decided against putting her shirt back on immediately. 

She had been wondering if she could get away with following him into his office, when Cassandra had followed her gaze. “What on earth is the Commander staring at?”

Aurelia had laughed, scrabbling around in her head for an excuse. “You know what he’s like, can’t stand to see soldiers standing around doing nothing.”

Cassandra had raised an eyebrow, but said nothing else, and Aurelia felt the panic begin to recede slightly. Cassandra may not be the most subtle, but she definitely knew what romance was and how to see it. The only people more likely to notice anything other than her were Varric and Dorian, and the two of them were already convinced she and Cullen were engaged in secret. The jokes and teasing helped solidify Oliver’s belief that there was nothing happening and that Varric and Dorian were just being morons, so she had bit her tongue.

She was barely in his office ten minutes that evening before they were on each other. 

Her back had hit the door with a thud and she had groaned into his mouth at the pain on her still tender skin. But then his hands had been sliding up her waist, to caress her breasts through the fabric of her binding and the groan had turned to sighs, and whimpers of frustration as she tried to get his fingers on her bare skin, to touch her a little harder, a little firmer. He was kissing like a man possessed, every inch of skin that was visible in her blouse (deliberately loose necked and low cut, Aurelia was nothing if not organised) was touched and it was all she could do to grab him and hold on, fingers tugging at his hair and leaving bite marks on his throat. She was drowning in desire, her whole body was throbbing with it, and something like elated anticipation had shot through her as Cullen had dropped to his knees. He looked up at her, pupils blown wide, and she’d gaped back at him, wondering if tonight, tonight it would happen. 

His hands had just dropped to the laces on her trousers when a fist slammed against the door Aurelia was using to support herself.

“Cullen? Are you awake? Leliana’s just received a report from one of her spies near Adamant.”

By the time Oliver entered the room, Cullen was seated behind his desk and Aurelia had disappeared into the darkness of the night, sprinting along the battlements accessible by one of the other three doors in his office. The cold cooled her libido slightly but she had barely fallen into bed before she was using her own hand to finish what Cullen had started. Once she was finished, she wondered slightly at the potential power this man had over her, that he could make her feel that strongly by just dropping to his knees and looking at her.

That was the closest they had come to sex. Not that either of them weren’t willing, that was as far from the truth as could be. Aurelia did not have the largest experience with it, but compared to Cullen she was an expert. She had flirted for weeks at a time with the stable boys, which had eventually led to a few hours rolling around in the top of the barn whenever her mother left to visit friends for the day, with lazy kisses on sunwarmed skin, giggling and pulling hay out of hair. There had been no lies, no illusions about what it was between them. Well, not after Alec, but that was a story she’d take to her grave.

But Cullen. She hadn’t ever asked, but she had a pretty good idea, from stories the mages who’d joined the Inquisition had told her about life in the Circle. She’d asked him one evening if he was a virgin, just out of interest, but he’d flushed and shaken his head. A quick fuck in a corridor, a stairwell, fully dressed and lasting five minutes was all he’d ever known then. He’d never made love, never lain someone down and taken them apart, held them at the edge and felt the primal joy that could come from the feeling of sweat slicked skin moving against each other. Vice versa, no one had ever shown him the heights of pleasure, never treated him with the love and devotion that he so deserved, never kissed every inch of his skin and whispered to him how wonderful he was, such a beautiful soul that should have more than Thedas was willing to give. No one’s ears had ever heard the sounds he made, no one’s eyes had seen him when he came, no one had felt the tight grip of his hands entwined with theirs as he was ridden to the peak of his pleasure. No one had ever held him afterwards, stroking his hair, planting gentle kisses on his face as they told him they cared for him.

Maker, Aurelia wanted to be that person. Wanted to be it more than she could remember wanting anything, except perhaps to be free of her home. But she would not push him, would never ask him for more than he was willing to give at one time. He wanted to do the same for her as she wanted to do to him, she knew it, but he didn’t know how. Or maybe there was something else, something she didn’t know about holding him back, they had only been doing this for a few weeks so he hadn’t exactly bared his soul to her, nor she to him. But she would wait for as long as he wanted her to. So, whenever he pulled away from their heated kisses with a sigh, smiled at her with such simple affection that it ached and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, or her nose, she smiled at him. Who, in her position, could do anything else?

Things began to change soon after that. The past days had been the calm before the storm, they could all sense it. They might joke and tease and fight and drink when they were together, but they were all preparing for battle in their own way, no matter who would be taken and who would stay behind. Aurelia sharpened her daggers every chance she got, Bianca had been given several upgrades thanks to Dagna’s skill in the forge, and Sera had recently taken to wearing her bow everywhere she went around Skyhold, as if she feared the possessed Grey Wardens would slink out of the shadows and attack them all. She had even seen Vivienne practicing spells on the small balcony she had claimed, and Krem told her that Bull, who was so proud of his bare skin in battle, and asked Harritt to make him a chestpiece. 

They were all on edge, waiting to see what would happen next, ready for the action and terrified of it at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is it weird to love the friendship between ur pairing? bc I kinda do


	10. The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I am so sorry for the long delay! Not to go too much into it but my entire life has basically been flipped upside down; I finished university, got a job, moved to the capital and graduated university and holy hell I am exhausted. It's been a crazy few months but I've tried my best to bash out little bits here and there and now I basically have something resembling a chapter? Idk man, I hope it's good
> 
> I hope you enjoy, as always feel free to follow me on tumblr @preparefortrevelyans, and any comments, kudos or bookmarks will make my lil heart grow three sizes, thank you my bbys

As it turned out, the inner circle was still waiting for an order from Oliver two weeks later. Almost everyone else in the castle had a job to do, but as they weren't much use to the Inquisition until they arrived at Adamant, there was little for them to do. Aurelia tried to stay out of everyone's way. Part of her wanted to help where she could, but knew she'd be more of a hindrance. She also didn't really want to help that much. Some of these soldiers were going to die soon, it was inevitable, and Aurelia didn't want to do anything that would make it happen faster. The courtyard (and pretty much any available space in Skyhold) had become filled with siege equipment: big, vicious looking machines of metal and wood. Cullen had confessed to her that he wasn't convinced they were going to be enough, but she couldn't see how anything could stand against them. She also hadn't realised how many soldiers there actually were in the castle until she saw them all walking around in full armour. Skyhold was preparing for a battle, and seeing the entire castle so militant had put the entire inner circle on edge. They were all spending most of their waking hours preparing for the coming fight, in their own way. Varric wrote a lot of letters. Bull fought and drink twice as hard. Vivienne was never seen on her balcony anymore. Aurelia's days were a mix of heavy training sessions with Cassandra or Bull, or reading up on everything to do with Adamant she could find in the library. More often than not, Dorian would sit and read with her, and they sat in companionable silence together, save for the rustle of turning pages or a derisive comment from the mage about the quality of southern literature.

Her nights with Cullen were still as wonderful as they had been when she'd first kissed him, even if they weren't filled with as much hot passionate sex as she was used to after being involved with someone for this long. They were both willing (she had the hickeys to prove it), but he was spreading himself so thin preparing for Adamant, by the time she arrived in his office (getting later and later as his meetings with soldiers fell later into the night) he was more asleep than awake. Still, he would always smile at her and kiss her more sweetly than she deserved. Then they would sit together and he would read reports until she decided he needed sleep and she shimmied him up his ladder and to bed. She knew that didn't mean he'd stay up there, didn't mean he'd stop working, but she hoped it helped a little. He'd asked her once if she'd wanted to stay over, but the risks of being caught was too high, as often soldiers arriving at his office with work were his wake-up call. Not that it hadn't been extremely tempting.

There was also something about just sitting and speaking with him in an evening that was romantic and had a longevity to it in a way they were both unfamiliar with. He'd rest his hand on her thigh, or she'd stroke his hair while he absentmindedly read reports and they spoke quietly, with kisses littered in between. Both of their past relationships with other people (if they could even be defined as relationships) had been sex, or focused on sex, because that was all either of them could risk in their respective lives. Not rushing into the more sexual side of it was new, foreign territory that they were treading together.

Not that either of them were particularly prudish with each other. Far from it in fact. The sexual tension was there, just below the surface. Most times when she bid him goodnight, it was another ten minutes before she actually stumbled out of his office, with swollen lips and shining eyes. But they were nervous, about what it meant for them, about the actual practicalities of it and about everything else going on. They would both be fighting together at Adamant, and even though it had only been a month since they had admitted their attraction to each other, the thought of anything happening to him made her chest clench uncomfortably. She was already pretty sure that she was falling hard for him, but if they had sex it would be the final straw. If then, Maker forbid, anything happened to him, she'd be completely fucked. Or perhaps she was just nervous that the sex would be shit.

She also had a feeling Cullen was deliberately holding back. When things inevitably turned sexual, and one of them ended up sat on the desk or pressed against the wall, he was always the first to pull back, cheeks flushed and breathing hard. Then he'd smile, kiss her nose or her forehead, and pull her into his arms. It was so sweet it made her want to throw up. Perhaps he wanted to experience it all in one go, perhaps it was something else. All she knew was that she ached to touch him, to feel him, even if it was her hand over his trousers, but every time his lips were on hers it was all too easy to let all thoughts fly out of her head and lose herself in him. She was caught, half nervous about what the next day might bring for them all regarding Adamant, half desperate to get to Cullen in the evening so she could kiss him, feel his body under her hands, even if it was in the least satisfying way possible.

The lyrium withdrawal was also starting to overwhelm him, and taking advantage of him . Aurelia had started adding elfroot potions to the hot drinks she brought him in the evening. It wasn't exactly a subtle attempt to help, elfroot had a smell that was rather distinctive, but Cullen never mentioned it and always finished what she brought him. Aurelia liked to think that he appreciated the fact that she didn't vocalise it, he didn't like talking about something that made him feel so weak and she didn't want to do anything other than be a bright and calming presence when they were together. But during the day he was snapping at his soldiers, and at times she had seen him hunched over the battlements, trying to stay upright past the pain in his gut. The first time she'd seen it she'd been mid-conversation with Varric, walking across the courtyard, and without a second thought she'd left him outside the Herald's Rest and charged up the steps towards him.

"Cullen," She had whispered, working her hand under his cloak, under his uniform to rest her hand against the bare skin of his lower back. It was like touching a furnace, damp with sweat, and for a moment she wished she was a mage that could control ice, wished she was able to do anything that might be helpful. His head was bent, breathing hard through his nose with his eyes squeezed shut.

"Cullen, speak to me." She whispered desperately. "Tell me what I need to do to help."

He didn't answer, and after a minute or so seemed to regain a little control. Raising his head, he let out one final, exhausted breath, tried to smile at her and squeezed her arm.

"Thank you."

She laughed, feeling a little shaky. "Don't try and stroke my ego by pretending I helped at all. Are you ok?"

"I'm fine." He said quietly. "I should get on. See you tonight."

If Aurelia had had her way, she'd have dragged him to his room and swaddled him in his blankets like a baby, screaming at him to rest. But, even as strong as she was, she doubted she could physically drag him up a ladder. So she watched him walk away, and doubled the dose of elfroot potion in his drink that night.

It was a disconcertingly bright and clear afternoon when Oliver rounded them all up and brought them to the War Room. Aurelia hadn't been in there since she'd first arrived at Skyhold, and even with all of them standing shoulder to shoulder around the table there was still more room than could be possibly needed. She was between Varric and Cole, Oliver directly opposite her and Cullen on his right. Their eyes had met, briefly as she walked in, but he was not Cullen right now, he was the Commander, giving his troops a briefing.

She kept her eyes on Oliver as he spoke, voice loud and definitive in the quiet of the room. Like Cullen, he had retreated under the mask of 'Inquisitor Trevelyan'. He was outlining the basic plan of attack, who would be stationed where and what they could best expect. They were due to leave in two days. Aurelia didn't have the interest in battle tactics and strategies that her brother did but even she could tell that it was going to be a hard fight. A lot of people were going to die, on both sides.

"Blackwall," He said to the man. "I won't order you to fight against your fellow Wardens. But we may still save some of them, and they could be more receptive to one of their own."

Blackwall sighed, eyebrows furrowed, almost covering his eyes. Then he straightened his shoulders and looked up, gaze steely. "Aye. I'll fight with you, for you."

He nodded at her brother, who inclined his head in return. "Dorian will also be part of my group, as will Sera."

Aurelia wasn't surprised that she was being excluded from the brunt of the danger. It likely wasn't worth fighting the point but she opened her mouth to anyway. Oliver held up a hand, clearly anticipating her response.

"Aurelia, don't. You know I can't bring you with me."

Cullen's eyes were on her, though what he was trying to communicate she couldn't tell.

"I can't just stay here and sit waiting for you to come back, if you do!" She said, although she knew she was clutching at straws.

"You won't be."

"What?"

It was Cullen that had spoken, not her. He was frowning a little, hand flexing where it rested on his sword. "Inquisitor, this is not what we discussed."

"I was speaking to Leliana this morning." Oliver said calmly, emotionlessly. His face was deliberately blank, which meant that he didn't like whatever he was about to say. "She suggested assembling a small team that would scout Adamant walls for any potential entrances."

"My eyes have not found anything, but that doesn't mean they are not there." The spymaster said. "If something is found, it will be an entrance to bring more soldiers through safely, which you will oversee. If not, you will rejoin the bulk of the force at the main gates."

Cullen sighed. "You should have told me, I will have to make adjustments to the placement of my men in case-"

Leliana passed him a sheet. "The Inquisitor and I drew this up before you arrived this morning."

Aurelia was overjoyed, ecstatic that Oliver was trusting her with this. Admittedly, if Leliana's spies hadn't found anything the chance of _her_ finding anything was less than zero (which meant it was likely Oliver was only going along with this because it got her out of the beginning chaos of the battle), but _still_. Part of her was also fuming on Cullen's behalf. He led the armies and had planned the battles, he was basically killing himself doing it, what was Oliver doing not communicating this? She was torn, part elation that she was being assigned something this big, half frustration at how he was restricting what he was able to do. Finding a passage and ensuring that all of the soldiers had passed through would likely take most of the battle. Failing to find a passage and having to fight at the gate would severely limit how much she was able to do, how much she was able to protect her friends. But still, if there was some other way of getting in, it could be crucial in the battle, it could turn it in their favour.

"This is not a death or glory mission, Aurelia." Oliver said, meeting her gaze unflinchingly. "If you find nothing then you retreat back to the gate. No trying to climb over the walls or anything, am I understood?"

He was calling her out in front of everyone so she couldn't argue the point without undermining his authority. She bit her tongue, and nodded.

"Good." Her brother nodded at her. "You'll take Solas and Cole with you. I understand it's a small team, but we need the warriors front and centre to fight. Cole will be able to get places without being seen and Solas will be there in case of an emergency."

Like they all didn't know what that meant.

As Oliver went over the plan, she kept glancing at Cullen, but he was watching the pieces move around on the table with a fixed determination. Clearly, they would have to wait until tonight to speak about this.

"You should check in with Cole and Solas." Oliver said to her, as they left the War Room some time later, the plan discussed and gone over a hundred times. "Who knows how much of that Cole actually took in, you need to make sure you're all on the same page."

"Don't talk about him like he's an imbecile." Aurelia snapped at him. Her mind was still on Cullen's face. Oliver took her tone as nerves about the upcoming fight and didn't push the matter.

"I'm going to speak to Cullen about the weapons stock." He said to her. "Speak to the men under your command."

She stared at him.

"That's Solas and Cole, you eejit."

"Oh!" She blinked. "I have men under my command."

Oliver smiled at her. "You do. I know you'll do what's right by the Inquisition, Auri. I have faith in you."

She pushed his shoulder to get him to shut up. "See you later, Olly." 

-

She had a legitimate reason for visiting Cullen, needing to speak to him about whether any armour could be spared for Cole. The boy may be a talented fighter but there was no way in hell she was going to let him fight in his usual ragged letters, no matter how much Dorian liked to joke that she was acting like a mother. When she finally reached his door, she was exhausted. Aurelia would have happily murdered anyone that badmouthed Cole, but she had to admit it was hard to get him to listen. He seemed to know what the plan was but whether he'd actually do it or go off on his own campaign was anyone's guess. Solas, at least was more receptive, but he was calm to the point of indifference about Adamant and it unnerved her.

The door opened as she approached and her eyebrows raised as Oliver walked out. Her mind was racing, thinking of excuses for why she'd be walking towards Cullen in the evening, but it was pointless. He didn't look angry, but there was a line of tension in his posture and he stalked past without even noticing her. In the room, she could see Cullen, leaning on his desk, the side of his face barely visible behind the fur of his cloak it was bent so low. Panic bloomed in Aurelia's chest, what had happened?

Quietly, she slipped into the office and gently shut the door behind her. Cullen's head jerked up at the noise. She'd hoped her presence might relax him but if anything, he looked more distressed. She opened her mouth to say something, what she wasn't quite sure, but her gaze dropped to the table and whatever she was going to say died in her throat.

On the table was an open box. From where she was she wouldn't see the content but the bright blue glow and the carvings marked into the wood gave it away. Lyrium. And, she was assuming, a philtre and scalpel. All plans for the evening fell away.

Aurelia's knowledge of lyrium was about as much as anyone else's. That it gave Templars their power, that they came to rely on it and more often than not, it killed them. She hadn't considered that Cullen might still be taking it, but why wouldn't he be? It's not like he could stop, that would likely kill him faster. And what right did she have to judge? Cullen's belief in the good of the Templars was widely known around Skyhold, Maker knows if there was something she could take to prevent her fits, she'd be as reliant on it as any Templar was on lyrium.

"Is everything alright?" She managed to say at last, focusing on his face. He looked drained, more so than in the War Room, though only a few hours had passed.

"I..." Whatever he was about to say (a lie, she suspected) he either chose not to continue with it, or couldn't muster up the energy to finish it. Glancing out of the two doors still open, Aurelia could see no one approaching, so darted forwards and grabbed his hands. They were balled into fists and supporting his weight on the table, but unfurled when she touched them.

"Cullen..." She started to say, a thousand different words on her tongue. _Tell me, let me help. You can trust me. Let me in. I hate to see you like this, it breaks my heart._

He sighed. "I suppose there's no point hiding it from you either."

And so there, in his office, under the glare of the setting sun, Aurelia listened to Cullen's story.

"But," she felt a little lost, like a child who had misplaced their mother in the market, and hated it. "But this could kill you."

"It hasn't yet."

He sounded so resigned, so uncaring about the potential of his own death, that a bubble of anger exploded inside her.

"Don't," she snapped, almost shouted, before she managed to get her breathing under control. Cullen was looking at her, surprised. Clearly, anger had not been what he was expecting but damn him it was what he was going to get. "Don't you dare speak about your own life so casually," She felt a little hysterical, her eyes unexpectedly damp. She pushed at his chest piece, unable to express how she felt. "You stopped for the good of yourself and the Inquisition, and I can respect that. Hell, I admire that. But don't you dare, ever speak to me about the possibility of you dying like it's something to be calm about, like it's something to be accepted, like it's something you _deserve_."

She spat the last word, aware her hands were shaking a little.

Cullen quickly skirted the edge of his desk and pulled her into his arms. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it like that. It's just something you get used to as a Templar I suppose. One way or another, lyrium will be your cause of death." 

"Well that's fucking shit." She said into his shoulder.

He chuckled. "Quite."

For a few minutes they didn't speak. She matched her breathing pattern to his and let the feeling of their matched breathing calm her down. Finally, Aurelia leant back, a little embarrassed from her outburst. "I know this is something you will in part have to do alone." She brought one gloved hand up to her mouth and gently kissed the knuckle. "But I'm here for a reason, Cullen. I couldn't bear to let you do this alone. Let me help you, in any way I can."

He smiled at her. His skin was pale and the dark shadows on his face emphasised the lines and wrinkles that someone his age shouldn't have for another ten years at least, but he was lovely, and he was hers.

"You already are." He said quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Whether it was divine intervention, or just good luck, the two of them were able to steal another few moments of peace, holding each other in silence before the sound of footsteps reached their ears. Reluctantly, Aurelia pulled back from the warmth of his body, noticeable even through his armour. "Will I see you tonight" He bent his head and murmured to her. One blonde lock of hair had fallen out of place and she reached up to touch it back into place, savouring the feeling of his hair falling through her fingers.

"Of course."

"Would you stay?"

She smiled. "I'll stay as long as you want me to."

"No," He whispered. Was that urgency in his voice, a touch of desperation? "Aurelia. I'm asking you to stay. With me. All night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a thought...how would you all feel about another separate fic, about Oliver and Dorian's relationship, from the Temple of Ashes onwards? Let me know your thoughts below!


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